Once more, for science
by planet p
Summary: AU; a new Chairman comes to Blue Cove. **Reviews welcomed.**
1. Chapter 1

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.

* * *

**2002**

They would face no opposition today. If the presence of the men dressed entirely in black was received with ill-omen, the five men did not encounter any opposition as they made their way to the Chairman's office on Level 2. Had the men encountered such a presence, one might have noted with apprehension the small white pins each man sported affixed to his black suit, the Center's cross-like insignia. The men made no detours, exchanged no conversation. Their arrival would not be expected.

* * *

The Tower official remained unmoving as he awaited the arrival of his guest. Two additional Sweeper Teams had been requested at his authority, and though these were Branch Sweepers, it could not be helped.

The Tower official had not, however, failed to notice Lyle, who stood impatiently with arms crossed. He would put a Tower tech onto his file, he decided. As it stood, the Tower official was confident Lyle would not be a problem, not with three Tower Sweepers so close at hand.

The Tower Empath glanced shortly in Lyle's direction and was ignored.

They were awaiting the arrival of the Tower-appointed Acting Chairman.

It had began fifteen hours earlier when the Tower official had been assigned to evaluate William Raines's position as Chairman of the Delaware Branch, and finding him unfit to hold Chairmanship, the Tower had been instructed to find a suitable candidate.

* * *

Broots shifted uncomfortably. An emergency boardroom meeting had been called ten minutes ago, and he, as a part of an active Retrieval Team, had been required to attend.

Sydney sat to the left of him and Lyle on his right side, Parker was seated on Sydney's left side. The seating arrangements were not ideal, he admitted soundlessly, but there was little to be done now.

A man dressed all in black walked to the front of the room, turning to address the meeting attendees. "On behalf of the Tower, I announce Ms. Denis, Chairman, Delaware Branch."

This announcement was followed by several careful glances and confused frowns. A sense of great unease began forming in Broots's stomach.

The Tower official ignored all of this and his eyes moved to the door where a group of smartly attired Sweepers entered, and out of this group stepped a woman. Ms. Denis wore a black suit to match her black hair, though the colour didn't suit her complexion and she looked somehow sickly, like little girls in fairytales. A deafening silence fell heavily upon the room as the implication of the Tower official's words settled in people's minds. Here was their new Chairman. For what reason she had been appointed remained a mystery to them, yet she was Chairman.

"Madam Chairman," a voice spoke to Broots's right. "Lyle Parker," Lyle introduced, standing. He directed a brief glance at Parker. "My sister, Miss Parker."

Ms. Denis's eyes became very small and she laughed.

Lyle beamed back.

The unease in Broots's stomach increased as he imagined strangling Lyle.

Ms. Denis walked swiftly to stand beside the Tower official, who took a half a step backward. "I will be addressed, at all times, as Chairman," the woman scolded, glaring at all assembled.

Lyle took his seat quickly.

"This branch has been brought to my attention several times in the past," Ms. Denis began. "This stops now. _I intend to see her rise that others may pale in her glory!_" She smiled a wide smile. "I will succeed! The Center will rise!"

Behind her, the Tower official nodded, murmuring an echo of her words. "The Center will rise!"

* * *

"Miss Parker," Ms. Denis called her back.

Parker turned from the approaching door, her eyes dark.

"May we speak?" the woman asked with a smile. "Please let me know if the timing is inconvenient for you."

"No," Parker assured. "The timing is perfect."

The smile widened menacingly.

* * *

The Tower doctor noted the burns the Taser had produced with slight discomfort, and was glad for the sedatives the patient had received. This was his first visit to Blue Cove and he found the facilities lacking in comparison to the branch he had transferred out of in Hawaii. He knew nothing of William Raines, and he had asked no questions. It was not his job to question, only to obey and receive payment.

The doors pushed apart to reveal a black-haired woman. Four men dogged her at her heels. One man was this woman's personal Sweeper, the Tower doctor guessed, and the other three, he frowned, an Empath triumvirate?

"Peel, I assume," the woman spoke in a smooth voice, extending a hand.

The Tower doctor nodded, taking the woman's hand.

"You are new to Blue Cove, Dr. Peel?" the woman asked.

He nodded again.

"It seems we have much in common, Dr. Peel. I, too."

"A doctor?" Peel enquired.

"Chairman," the woman replied.

Peel averted his eyes immediately to the floor. "I apologise," he rambled.

The woman raised his chin with a sharp finger. "Apology accepted," she spoke smoothly to his eyes.

A shiver ran down his spine.

* * *

"We need to go to work now, Dr. Peel," the Chairman told him.

"I think we will prove very valuable to each other in the future, Melanie," Ms. Denis had told her.

The sound of that name still sent a shiver through her though it had become a part of her memory.


	2. Chapter 2

The Tower Healers had kept it alive, but it was dead. It was rotting. Its liver and kidneys had stopped working, were rotted too. Creatures inhabited its intestine and stomach, eating away at it from inside out.

Peel's expression took on an unpleasant note at the smell of the rotting corpse with the gluey scummy eyes. The thing was breathing. Its chest shifted fractionally, rising and falling again, immensely slowly. Though it was doubtful the blood oxygen was enough to sustain the brain functioning. The thing was dying even now.

Peel turned away in disgust, nodding once before he had to be sick.

Raines looked at the thing that didn't see him. He put his hands around its throat.

The Sweepers returned.

* * *

Had he not been sedated, he would have been sick. To touch the thing, to feel it… He could not stop it when it happened. He could feel it. It was during those times that he felt it most clearly through the haze of drugs. He should have ended it. It did not deserve what they had done to it, what they were doing to it.

The drugs changed continually, only the Sweepers remained unchanged. He lost count of the number of Empaths, and then he forgot how to count.

* * *

They brought him to the thing and he did as he was told and it filled his soul and made him so numb he no longer knew what he was.

The thing was soft and mousy brown when it was fixed, but he would later learn that that was just the hair. The thing was a woman.

* * *

The woman stared endlessly. Peel told him that her name was Ocee. Raines did not reply, he had stopped speaking.

Later, Peel told him that the Chairman was pleased with his recent progress. Ocee was well, and very much alive. The Chairman was so pleased in fact that she had suggested to him the possibility of offspring.

Peel squinted and leant forward slightly. No reaction. He sighed.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	3. Chapter 3

Parker found the package placed neatly on her office desk. Opening the envelope and turning it up, a white paper slip fell onto the desk to reveal a DSA.

She frowned and picked the DSA up and flipped it over between her fingers. There was no writing on it, not even a date, and the yellow envelope it had come in had been blank, suggesting that it had not come in the mail. Absently, she hummed a song that she had heard in the car park. It was stupid really, because there had been no one there.

She slotted the DSA into her computer's DSA drive, and waited for the DSA to register. As she was waiting for this to happen, she pulled her chair closer to her desk and sat down.

Once the DSA had registered, she double-clicked the I Drive and the DSA playing program launched.

The screen displayed an empty room. Parker noted the customary tagline, FOR CENTER USE ONLY. The date was May 5, 1959. The DSA was recorded before her birth, she realised.

A smiling woman stepped into the recording and sat down in the empty chair. Parker stared. The woman was Catherine Parker.

Catherine Parker sighed. "For the benefit of the DSA the date is May 5, 1959," she droned, rolling her eyes. She beamed suddenly, exclaiming, "I'm pregnant!" She shook her head at her silliness. "It's been a month," she reported. She giggled suddenly. "Of course, I don't dare speak of it, but a good friend has assured me that it will be twins. _They_ will be twins!" She touched her lips with a hand. "Mel and Polly," she breathed, and a smile reached her lips. She kissed her fingers and planted her hand on top of her stomach.

Parker blinked and her eyes felt cold and watery. A tear blurred her vision momentarily. She brushed it away, annoyed.

She dropped her face into her hands and sobbed whilst Catherine giggled to the camera.

* * *

Parker was stomping back to her office from the bathroom when she saw Lyle standing ahead of her in the corridor, standing with a woman, prompting a glare. _Fake twin_, her mind screamed angrily.

"The cafeteria is on Ground Floor," Lyle explained to the woman, speaking the words aloud.

"Thank you!" the woman signed back silently.

Lyle laughed. "It's my job!" he joked, rolling his eyes.

The woman smiled and walked away.

* * *

The woman paused and turned at the corner. "What is your name?" she signed. "In case I end up lost and have to blame someone."

Lyle shook his head with a smile. "L-Y-L-E," he spelt out.

"M-A-D-E-L-I-N-E," the woman returned, and signed the shortened form for her name. "Madeline."

* * *

Peel did not explain what he was doing to her, though Ocee didn't need him too. She did not struggle.

* * *

The cafeteria was a small space, walls painted in dark colours, blacks, deep maroons, browns, and much more like a café than a cafeteria. Madeline perused the room, and once she had chosen a suitable table, made her way over and took a seat.

She had not yet seen the dining hall, though it was rumoured that it was artificially bright and served nothing but nasty food, especially on Fridays.

The seats were much more comfortable than she expected those of a cafeteria to be, and she decided that the dining hall seating must be as uncomfortable as the cafeteria seating was comfortable to make up the difference.

It was doubtful that the cafeteria saw many employees more than once, she duly decided, after she had been waiting for some time, and sipped her exorbitantly-priced coffee.

The Chairman arrived with two men.

Madeline supposed that they were Sweepers as they did not take seats along with the Chairman, but instead stayed back from the table as though setting a perimeter to guard. Well, Chairwoman, Madeline thought abruptly, realising that she had been referring after this woman as a man the entire time.

The Chairwoman fixed her with an uncomfortable stare and said, "Miss McKay, I understand that you-"

"What are you saying?" she signed, slower than usual. "I cannot hear you. I am deaf. I cannot hear anything."

The Chairwoman shot a glance over her shoulder at one of her Sweepers. This woman was deaf!

The Sweeper approached the table and bent over so that the Chairwoman could converse privately with him.

Madeline didn't see the point. She wasn't particularly skilled at lip-reading, especially not when people were whispering or mumbling, as she supposed they were doing.

"What are you saying?" she signed, confused, and put her hands over her ears in demonstration that she was deaf.

The Sweeper straightened and spoke into his earpiece. He was requesting something, as far as Madeline was aware.

"You are the translator," the Chairwoman said to Lyle, affording Madeline a brief glance. "What does she say? She is deaf." Lyle glanced in the direction of the second Sweeper, but the Chairwoman said, "He does not sign," a dismissive note to her voice.

"Very well, Chairman," Lyle resigned.

"It is expensive," Madeline complained with a frown.

"What does she say?" the Chairwoman chirped.

"She says that the cafeteria is expensive," Lyle relayed, watching Madeline. "I'm going to tell you what she tells me, and then I'll tell her what you told me," Lyle explained to Madeline.

Madeline nodded. Okay.

The Chairwoman shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I want you to tell her," she said loudly, "that I appreciate the interest she has shown in applying, but the position seems to have been filled."

Lyle frowned. "You're leaving yourself very open for a case for discrimination, Ms. Denis," he pointed out, ignoring Madeline's confused stare.

The Chairwoman narrowed her eyes.

Understanding this perfectly, Lyle turned back to Madeline. "The job has been taken. The Chairman is very sorry to have wasted your time on this matter. She would like to assure you that had she become aware of this fact sooner, she would most certainly have contacted you via alternate means. We apologise for the inconvenience. Enjoy your stay in Blue Cove, Miss McKay."

Madeline shook her head and fixed the Chairwoman with a stare. "I do not think you are being truthful with me," Madeline accused. "In fact I think you have not found someone for the job, I think that you do not want me because I would be a hassle because I am deaf."

"If it is that important I will compensate you for the coffee," Lyle signed back silently.

Madeline glared.

"What is she saying?" the Chairwoman chirped.

"She was just leaving," Lyle replied, signing the words as a cue to Madeline to do just that.

The Chairwoman turned to look Madeline in the face. "I wish you happy job-hunting, Miss McKay," the woman said smoothly, which Lyle relayed.

"I bet you do!" Madeline signed quickly.

"Surely we could take a look over her résumé and point her in the right direction," Lyle said calmly. "It would leave a far nicer impression."

The Chairwoman narrowed her eyes fractionally, but sighed. "Tell her," she resigned, shooting a glance Madeline's way.

* * *

The Chairman sighed heavily. Lyle was nothing but trouble as far as she was concerned. She had heard a good deal about him, none of which seemed to strike her as much like this person, though she supposed he had some great secret plan in hand to overthrow her and take over the Chairmanship, which no doubt involved pretty deaf girls, she reminded herself with amusement.

Oh yes, that was going to be some plan!

* * *

Sweeping the dining hall with her eyes, Parker finally spied Sydney and made a beeline. Sydney stood with Lyle and the deaf woman. It was only now that she was closer that Parker was able to consolidate the nagging feeling she had had about the woman since she had seen her standing with Lyle in the corridor. She had seen her before. Just once. With Jarod's mother.

A horrible sense of dread came over her. If Lyle knew that this woman was Emily – and he did know – then why was it that she was not detained down on one of the sub-levels? What twisted game was this?

Emily had dyed her hair a light brown, though it was not much of a disguise considering Parker had been able to identify her after having only seen her once and not having met her.

"I am a researcher," Emily explained to Sydney.

Sydney frowned, glanced at Lyle.

"She's a researcher," Lyle explained, and to Emily, "He doesn't sign."

Emily frowned and pushed him in the arm. "And that was not something you thought to mention?" she signed, annoyed.

Lyle smiled nicely.

"M-O-R-O-N," Emily spelt out the word _moron_ for him.

Lyle frowned. "What?"

"Missing a brain," she signed back with a smile.

"I'm sorry, I don't sign," Sydney explained, carefully pronouncing each word.

Lyle frowned. "She doesn't lip-read," he told Sydney.

"What are you saying?" Emily signed, glaring at him in annoyance.

"I told him that you were experimented on as a child and can turn into a werewolf," Lyle signed, completely serious.

Emily made a face. He had not. She had been watching. He had said something with much less words.

Lyle grinned. "What I really told him was that you do not lip-read," he said, crossing his arms.

Emily narrowed her eyes calculatingly. "Cross your heart and swear to die, poke a needle through your eye?"

Lyle smiled. "Minus the needle bit." He crossed his heart.

* * *

"New girlfriend, Lyle?" Parker sneered.

Lyle grinned and threw his arms around Emily from behind. "She's so cute!" he whined in mock excuse.

Emily made a face, exasperated, but certainly not frightened.

Lyle sighed and dropped his arms, taking a step backward. "I'm working on it," he admitted.

Emily turned to him with a horrible glare. "Why were you touching me?" she demanded.

"Karate!" Lyle joked, imitating her badly.

Emily narrowed her eyes, clearly not amused.

* * *

"Madeline is a researcher," Sydney explained quietly to Parker, because Lyle could still hear him.

Parker frowned and glanced at 'Madeline'.

Madeline frowned, obviously thinking that Parker wanted to say something to her, and pinched Lyle in the arm.

"What?" Lyle signed, frowning.

Madeline glanced at Parker.

"Miss Parker," Lyle signed, saying the name aloud.

Madeline frowned. "Are you related?"

"She's my sister," Lyle admitted.

Parker's stomach hurt with how hard she was trying not to appear hostile.

Madeline smiled at her.

* * *

Parker sat impatiently, awaiting Sydney's arrival. She had earlier asked him to meet her and he had agreed.

Parker had chosen a coffee lounge she frequented on occasion. She appreciated good coffee and the coffee lounge made good coffee.

From where she sat, Parker had a good vantage of the door, and she made sure to arrange to her face into an expression of impassiveness so that by the time Sydney slipped into a seat opposite her, there was little he could guess about what she might have asked him to this place for.

Sydney sighed, her cue to speak, and Parker removed the DSA from an inside pocket of her jacket and slid it across the tabletop.

Sydney frowned down at the object, glancing at Parker, and picked the DSA up.

"Not here," Parker told him in a low voice. "Watch it at home." Collecting herself, she stood swiftly from the table and left.

* * *

Sydney stared at the paused image of a happy Catherine Parker. Twin girls? It didn't make sense.

The DSA of Parker's birth had shown a girl and a boy, but here was Catherine saying that the twins would both be girls. No sense at all.

It came back to Raines. It always came back to Raines.

Sydney sighed heavily.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	4. Chapter 4

The negative feedback took the longest time to fully eventuate. Peel was amazed how normal Raines looked, yet he was dying, his body was shutting down.

The Chairman ordered Healer intervention, of course. Peel felt like shouting at her. Raines _was_ a Healer. What could another Healer possibly do?

The next day Ms. Denis made an appearance in his laboratory, her customary Sweeper in tow. She stalked across the lab, took the front of his lab coat, and didn't stop until he was backed against the wall. "What you don't seem to understand," she growled close to his face, "is that he _cannot_ heal himself!" She took a breath. "If he dies, you go with him."

The woman swept from the lab, Sweeper always in tow. Peel only let himself breathe again once he could no longer hear her heels on the floor.

* * *

The Tower Healers were worried. They had never seen negative feedback this advanced before. Every few minutes, one would send a glance Peel's way, and he knew they were contemplating his exact degree and form of madness. They did not believe Raines to be a Healer.

Peel heard them chatting during the lunch break. Apparently he was a paranoid psychopath and Lyle Parker had nothing on him, and they had heard he was wanted by the government for federal crimes.

Peel wasn't the type to busybody, and it was making him terribly miserable to listen to the things they had to say about him, but he blamed it on his increasing miserable mood.

A male Healer with light brown hair laughed. "They're just rumours! Rumours you would be foolish to believe."

An older Healer, male also, narrowed his eyes. "Those aren't rumours. Those are fact."

The light brown-haired Healer laughed.

"I heard he killed Kyle," a third Healer added.

"He did!" the older Healer confirmed emphatically.

"Well surely Peel doesn't compare," a young female Healer with a deep voice reasoned.

"I expect Peel will have offed Alex," the light brown-haired Healer joked magnificently.

The older Healer glared.

"I personally do not see the point in debating the topic," the young female Healer interrupted. "Clearly they are both very ill, and clearly Kyle and Alex are still dead."

The light brown-haired Healer nodded. "I must agree with Jeanne."

The older Healer scoffed. "You would say that, wouldn't you, Diamond?"

Diamond glanced at him. "Yes," he confirmed, affronted, "I would say that. I am not interested in conflict, Jerry."

Jeanne made a face. She was sick to death of the two of them and their death glares. "Do you think it possible, Marshall?" she asked the youngest of the small group of Healers.

"W-what?" Marshall stammered guiltily. He had been following the glaring match and had not heard what she had said.

"Do you think that this Raines could be a Healer?"

"Anything is possible, as they say!" Diamond declared grandly, throwing an arm out.

Jerry shot daggers from his eyes.

Peel scuttled away before a brawl ensued, seeking the calm of his lab, where there were no voices declaring adamantly after his insanity.

* * *

Parker, Sydney and Broots were called to a meeting early morning and rode to Level 1 in an elevator. Upon entering the meeting room, Parker noted with surprise the familiar Tower official. A dark-haired woman stood by his side and it appeared they were conversing.

The conversation was cut short at the arrival of the three, Parker entering the room first. The three were seated and the Tower official began by explaining that the woman standing beside him was here to join their Retrieval Team.

Her name was Paulie and she was a former federal agent. The slim woman was introduced to each member of her new team. She would meet the Sweepers on Field, the Tower official informed her, though he was sure she would have no trouble with any of them.

* * *

Broots turned up a lead on Jarod's whereabouts on Friday and the Retrieval Team took the company jet to New Jersey.

* * *

Lyle sighed and rubbed his face. He was getting nowhere fast with the translations he had been assigned to complete, and his head had started to ache. Stupid dead languages!

He pushed his chair back from the desk and stood.

* * *

Spotting Madeline sitting at a table, he walked across the dining hall to join her and took a seat opposite her own. "How has your day been so far?" he asked.

Madeline frowned. "Trying," she signed distractedly.

Lyle reached across the table and patted her hand briefly.

"What about your day?"

Lyle smiled, standing once more. "Coffee," he explained.

Madeline leapt to her feet. "I have a favour to ask," she signed, stepping into his path. "I need a translator but it seems that all of the company translators are engaged." She smiled. "I will owe you."

Lyle sighed heavily, swept an arm in front of him. "Lead the way."

* * *

Madeline pulled the door closed after her and turned swiftly to Lyle, leaning her back up against the door. "You don't sound good," she told him in a low voice.

Lyle smiled. So this was what it was about.

Madeline eyed him, annoyed, and stepped away from the door. "Explain this to me," she said, walking to his desk and dropping her eyes to the documents awaiting translation. She turned back to face him and fixed him with a plain stare.

Lyle sighed in resignation and walked to her side.

* * *

Paulie was very knowledgeable, handy with all of that federal agent stuff, Parker thought, though she could tell Sam wasn't buying it.

Whilst they did not turn up Jarod, Parker assured Paulie that they would have all of the things they had found in Jarod's hideout to take back with them and analyse. They would not be spare of time.

Sydney watched this exchange closely. It was not like Parker. Parker did not usually work well with other women, and it was even less likely for her to offer any form of consolation.

It was only later that they were back on the company jet that Parker was struck with a strange notion. All of those concerted looks Sydney had been sporting and thought she hadn't noticed and she had most certainly been the cause of could only add up to that fact.

Paulie was her sister.

Once the idea had taken hold, by the time she stepped off the jet back in Blue Cove, she was sure of it. Finally she began to feel the stirrings of the connection that she had not felt with Lyle, the connection alike to that she shared with her half brother, Ethan, and reserved only for her twin.

* * *

The dining hall was mostly empty when Sydney entered, though he did notice Madeline sitting by herself with a paper cup that he suspected strongly to be a coffee from one of the various coffee machines to be found outside of the dining hall. The dining hall brewed coffee for the lunch period, after which powdered coffee was all there was to be had, and Sydney was not particularly fond of instant powdered coffee himself.

"Madeline!" he called, walking over to her table, before remembering that she was deaf and would not hear him, so he was surprised when Madeline glanced over her shoulder and spied him.

"Hello, Sydney," she signed, though Sydney had no idea what she had just said to him.

He gave a short wave in return and wondered if she had felt rather than heard him. Nonetheless, he picked up his feet, and walked the rest of the way to her table.

"How are you?"

Sydney frowned at the unfamiliar gestures.

Madeline frowned back sadly. A moment later, she jumped to her feet and began pacing.

Sydney watched her carefully, confused.

Pulling out her chair, Madeline sat down abruptly, and leaned into the table as though looking at something there. She gave a sigh and waved her hands around above the tabletop.

Sydney frowned and it occurred to him that she was miming. She must have been shuffling papers, he decided, because she was now replacing her imaginary reading glasses in a pocket of her jacket.

Sydney smiled, signalling that he understood, and Madeline relaxed back into the chair, watching him. He nodded. He had read several items today.

Madeline smiled back at him.

* * *

Sydney watched the DSA over several times more on the weekend, determined that it fall into place eventually, that some light be shed on the grey between truth and lies, and reality and fantasy, something stronger than mere hoping it should end so.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	5. Chapter 5

Diamond rounded the corner and was struck with the sound of sobbing. He frowned, treading carefully, and found that it was Jeanne. Her chin shot up when she heard him come into the meeting room they had been assigned as their base of operations and she blushed despite the tears streaming down her face.

Diamond rearranged his frown.

Jeanne leapt out of the chair she had been sitting in and launched herself at him.

Diamond's eyes widened in shock and he stumbled back.

"What are they doing keeping something like that locked up!" Jeanne shouted, and Diamond realised it was not him that she was angry at.

He blushed and stood there lamely, arms hanging by his sides.

Jeanne burst into tears again, plastering her hands over her face in shame.

Though embarrassed, Diamond took a cautious step forward and placed a hand on the young woman's shoulder.

"They gave it a name!" Jeanne cried, stricken. "It had a house and a family!"

Diamond winced. He had been given a name. He had been given an apartment, a motor vehicle. He patted the younger woman's back.

"How can you be sure?" Jerry interrupted, causing Diamond to start. How was it that Jerry was able to sneak up on him like that? He was always able to sense Marshall and Jeanne.

"It has the marking," Jeanne whispered, barely opening her mouth for these few words.

Jerry scowled. "Then it is as we are?"

Jeanne sniffed. She did not need to say anymore.

* * *

Parker marched into the dining hall and spotted Broots. He was not alone today. Parker paused slightly, recognising his companion. Paulie sat with him and the two were clearly immersed in conversation. She stopped and that was when she noticed Lyle and Madeline, Madeline with a cup of black coffee and Lyle with a sizeable quantity of papers spread out on the table in front of him.

She turned and walked to their table. Catching sight of Madeline's smile, she frowned. Surely the woman knew that Lyle knew who she was!

Lyle sighed, glanced across the table at Madeline.

"So smart!" Madeline signed.

Lyle shook his head. _Sure._

Parker frowned.

Madeline heaved an exaggerated sigh in imitation of Lyle, plastering a bored look to her face.

Lyle shot her an annoyed look, stood and began collecting up his papers and pencil.

"What are you doing?" Madeline signed.

"I don't think I want to sit with you anymore," Lyle told her.

Madeline planted her hands on her hips and glared.

Lyle stopped what he was doing and glanced at her in annoyance. "What?" he shot.

"If you go, I won't be able to stop Sydney from ambushing me. And I don't think he likes you. I think he prefers to stay away from you."

Lyle choked. "I love you!" he signed.

Madeline frowned.

Lyle smiled happily.

Madeline blinked.

Lyle took a step toward her.

Madeline bolted. She just managed to stop before she ran into Parker.

Parker waved a hand.

Madeline shot a glare over her shoulder. Hello.

Parker pointed past Madeline and Madeline turned around and walked back to the table with her.

"Dummy!" she signed to Lyle.

Lyle smiled, collecting up his papers quickly. "Good morning, sis," he said to Parker.

Parker smiled sweetly in response.

"Good morning, Sydney," Lyle said, noting the older man.

Sydney did not reply to this.

Lyle only smiled.

Sydney shifted his glance toward the two women and smiled pleasantly.

"Good morning, Sydney," Madeline signed.

"Madeline says 'good morning'," Lyle informed Sydney as he was passing on his way out of the dining hall.

Madeline stomped after him and made a screaming sound.

Lyle turned to face her.

"You horrible person!" Madeline signed, glaring.

"You're right,"Lyle admitted.

"Take me out."

Lyle frowned.

"Take me out," Madeline signed again.

Lyle turned and walked away.

Madeline stared blankly.

* * *

Jarod squinted at the computer screen, annoyed and confused. He was not comfortable with the recent Tower activity concentrated in Blue Cove, nor was he comfortable with not knowing what this activity was.

He returned his attention to the screen. He was not one to give up easily.

* * *

"Hi."

Madeline frowned and turned to the two people who had appeared in the side of her eye. A man and a woman. "I am sorry. I cannot hear you," Madeline signed.

The woman frowned. Beside her, the man smiled weakly.

"I have to work," Madeline signed, and departed for the door across the dining hall, ignoring the closer door, the one Lyle had gone out. She was headed downstairs, not up.

* * *

Broots sighed to his shoes contemplatively, before glancing around at Paulie. The woman looked irritated.

* * *

It was a week later that Broots reported a lead on Jarod and the Retrieval Team were packed onto the company jet.

Parker was surprised when she saw Lyle and Madeline waiting outside the jet, and then it occurred to her that Madeline was researching Jarod for another Pretender and her stomach hurt again.

Madeline waved and signed _hello_ to her when she too saw her.

* * *

Madeline sat beside Lyle on the jet, though Lyle seemed to be ignoring her now, Sydney noted, conveying this to Parker in a low voice, and Parker realised that her sentiment toward the woman had become considerably frostier over the short period she had known her.

Madeline fell asleep, her hand holding Lyle's, and Parker felt sick in her stomach.

Lyle hummed something quietly for a while, which Parker finally concluded to be a religious song though she did not know the name or the words.

Sydney glanced at her and she could read his expression clearly. He thought that they were involved and Parker was inclined to agree. She could not fathom how the woman could willingly touch Lyle, or even fall asleep beside him.

"She is very trusting of him," Sydney spoke quietly.

Parker did not reply. She could not help but feel angry at Madeline. Would she sell Jarod out were the opportunity to present itself? Or Ethan?

She was jerked from her thoughts at the sound of someone choking and her eyes went to Madeline looking uncomfortable.

Sydney shifted in his seat, but Lyle had already taken Madeline's arms. He spoke to her in a firm voice. "Maddie."

Madeline began to struggle. Parker clamped her hand around Sydney's arm. He was not to interfere.

"Maddie," Lyle repeated, shaking the woman carefully now. "Wake up, Maddie."

Madeline's eyes shot open and she struggled worse than ever, making terrible noises in the back of her throat.

"It's me, Maddie," Lyle told her, taking hold of a hand which had left a nasty scratch across his face.

Madeline gargled, intent only on one thing, and that was getting away from this man. She kicked the row of seats in front of her, hissing and writhing.

Annoyed, Lyle planted himself on top of her legs and gripped her upper arms painfully. "Look at me, Maddie!" he ordered. "It's me," he told her, less harsh now.

Madeline did not move at all for the length of a breath, then she threw her chin back and smacked him in the head with her head. Madeline's chest heaved nastily, and after some moments, she sniffed abruptly, and Parker realised that the fight had gone out of her.

Madeline sniffed noisily. "Hold me," she signed, her hands weak. She sniffed again.

Lyle nodded once, releasing her arms, and put his arms around her.

* * *

"He's done something to her!" Paulie hissed nastily. "He's bloody conditioned her!"

Sydney glanced at her as though to say that she should not be jumping to conclusions so soon, but Parker glared at Lyle and said, "I know."

Broots remained without comment and Sydney shot him a short annoyed look.

* * *

On the ground, Sam took Lyle aside and stared into his eyes. "What is this woman to you?" he demanded firmly.

Lyle turned his face away from him with no reply.

Sam did not ask again.

* * *

Parker frowned, noticing Paulie sidle closer to Madeline. "It doesn't have to be this way," Paulie whispered to her in a quiet voice.

So she had guessed that the woman was not deaf, Parker thought, keeping her eyes down.

Madeline turned fully and looked into her face. "What?" she signed.

Paulie smiled slightly and rolled her eyes.

"Lyle," Madeline told her, and Parker recognised the name. "Lyle can tell me what you are saying. Lyle can tell you what-"

Paulie shook her head.

Sydney frowned, shooting Parker a glance. They did not want Lyle to see Paulie talking to Madeline like that.

Paulie seemed to be thinking along similar lines, because she turned away and walked across the room and busied herself in her work

* * *

They ate a late lunch at a restaurant named Calla's Diner. Lyle ate a few chips and not much else. Parker sipped her coffee._ So he should be worried._

Madeline glanced at him several times, and Parker could not help but thinking that she was worried that she would be in trouble later.

* * *

"We can't just wait for him to kill her one day!" Parker hissed to Sydney, pacing the older man's office.

Sydney glanced at her, worried.

They were alone now, and Parker felt suddenly as though this might be the only chance she may have to reveal the truth to Sydney before Madeline turned up dead. "Madeline McKay is an alias, Sydney," she told him. "Her real name is Emily Russell."

Sydney frowned at the name. "She is Jarod's…" He trailed off.

"Sister. Yes," Parker finished for him.

Sydney stared at her, and then he stood quickly. "Then we must act now."

* * *

Broots informed them of the location of Madeline's working space and Parker and Sydney, accompanied by Paulie, rode down in the elevators. Parker knew that if they waited until tomorrow it may be too late.

They found Madeline right where Broots had said, at her workstation. She was working on a file on her computer, but of course she heard when Sydney spoke her name.

"Madeline, may we talk?"

Madeline stood from her chair abruptly, smoothing the back of her skirt – she had worn a skirt today – and turned to face Sydney. "Sydney," she signed. "I was just getting up to collect something from the printer." She nodded to a printer where several pages remained uncollected, a fresh page joining the pile.

Sydney glanced at the printer, back to Madeline. She had stayed a few minutes to finish this file, but the other researchers had been much more enthusiastic to take their afternoon breaks. The space was empty save himself and Madeline.

Parker and Paulie waited outside in the corridor in case Madeline tried to run.

"I know you can hear me," Sydney told her calmly.

Madeline frowned. "What are you saying?" she signed.

Sydney sighed. It was time for Parker and Paulie to come in from the corridor. "You can come in now," he called to the two women, and they appeared moments later in the doorway.

Madeline frowned harder. "What did you say?" she signed, confused.

Sydney shook his head. "We're here to help you," he assured her.

Madeline backed further into the room.

"It's okay," Paulie spoke suddenly. "We know what he did to you. We're not going to do that to you. We're not going to let him do that to you again. We're here to help."

Madeline shook her head. "No," she said.

"It's okay," Sydney said, stepping toward her.

Madeline came up against a desk, panicked. "No," she said again.

Parker and Paulie moved forward, and her eyes darted between them and Sydney, trying to figure out what they would do.

"What are you doing?" a voice asked from the door.

Parker spun about, but it was Paulie who spoke. "If you know what's good for you, you'll walk away!" she spat.

Lyle considered her crossly and stepped into the room.

Paulie had been trained to aim for the biggest part of the body, aim for the torso, and that was what she did.

Madeline started at the loudness of the gunshot, and then just stood there.

Sydney moved toward her but she screamed and tore away from him. She pelted past Parker and skidded to her knees beside Lyle.

Paulie stepped in and took her around the middle and dragged her back. Madeline stretched out her arms, but Sydney had moved to help Paulie, and the pair manoeuvred her backward with little resistance.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	6. Chapter 6

Madeline woke in the night and started banging her head on the wall. Parker had to restrain her after that.

Parker sat up in bed, thinking over and over. _It was the right thing. I did the right thing._ She would not sleep, she decided, until Jarod rang.

4 A.M. Jarod rang. Parker lunged on the telephone. "What?" she demanded. _Be Jarod! Please be Jarod! Oh God, let it be Jarod!_

"Good morning, Miss Parker," Jarod greeted good-naturedly.

"Oh God, Jarod!" Parker moaned.

Jarod choked.

Parker's mind wasn't working properly, she needed to tell him about Emily, but even she could not mistake that sound, and realised suddenly what she must have sounded like.

"Are you alright, Miss Parker?" Jarod tested before Parker could correct herself.

"It's not what you think, Jarod!" Parker growled. "I need you here. Now."

"Not what I think," Jarod reminded himself in a low voice, but not low enough for Parker not to catch what he had said.

"Look, genius," Parker growled, "It's your sister. It's Emily."

"Emily?" Jarod demanded suddenly. "If you've done anyth-!"

"No," Parker spoke over him. "It was Lyle."

"Is she-?"

"She's here," Parker told him. "I've got her. She's safe. All you need to do is come here and get her."

Jarod laughed abruptly, a nasty accusing laugh.

"For God's sake, Jarod," Parker yelled into the phone. "Be here!" She slammed the phone down, glaring at it. It was so typical that Jarod would think that she- She cut the thought short. She would wait. She did not need to think whilst she was doing it. She certainly did not need to think about Jarod.

* * *

Jarod arrived at 5:42 A.M. Parker did not need to open the door for him. She was waiting for him in the lounge room, watching television on mute.

"Where is she?" Jarod demanded roughly.

Parker started, refraining from leaping out of her seat, and stood from the sofa, her backside suitably numb. "She's in the guestroom," she told him in her best I'm-not-sleepy voice.

Jarod waited for her to move to show him the way.

* * *

"What did you do to her?" Jarod cried, rushing into the room.

"She was banging her head on the… wall," Parker explained, watching Jarod fumbling to untie his sister.

Emily opened her eyes and saw him. She was quite silent for a moment, and then she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Parker blinked in alarm, all tiredness forgotten. The neighbours were not going to like this, and the police were going to like it even less. She launched across the room, but Jarod was touching Emily, touching her head, trying to calm her, and she was screaming. She would not stop screaming.

* * *

The screaming stopped.

"It's Jarod. It's your brother," Jarod soothed, and Parker was finally able to hear his words. She felt warmer inside, hearing his concern, though it was not directed at her.

Emily's eyes were glazed, her breathing fast and shallow.

Jarod stroked her forehead gently.

A tear tracked the curve of her nose and slipped into her mouth. Parker watched it there for a moment. She frowned. She was not breathing! God, she had stopped breathing! "Jarod, she's not breathing!" she screamed, seeing that Emily's chest was not moving.

* * *

"What did he do to her?" Jarod growled. He was not angry. He was beyond angry now.

"I don't know," Parker told him honestly, uselessly.

* * *

Emily woke half an hour later. She did not speak a word, and instead stared at the ceiling.

Jarod stepped in the hallway and shut the door. "What am I going to do?" he asked painfully.

Parker looked into his face. "You're going to be her big brother. You're going to look after her."

They could hear the sound of Emily humming through the wall.

"Tell me what you know?" Jarod said, watching her, so she did.

* * *

Jarod glanced at Emily. Emily had been with him almost a week and in all this time she had not spoken a single word.

Jarod doubted that she would either. Lyle had damaged her and he was not the one who could fix her, no matter how much it hurt to admit.

He would find Margaret and their mother would look after Emily, he decided, walking into the motel room with takeout for lunch.

Emily sat in front of the blaring television, staring at the screen, but Jarod could pick up the remote and change channels as often as he liked and Emily wouldn't blink.

* * *

Jarod rang on Thursday. Emily was no better, he told her. Parker listened and did not interrupt. She told Jarod that they needed to meet. It was not something she would ever do, but it was something that she needed to do. Jarod agreed, and she agreed to leave the Sweepers at home.

* * *

Parker sipped her coffee, and glanced at Emily. Jarod had left the table to take a call and Parker had been left to mind Emily.

Emily stared at her.

Parker waved, and Emily turned her head and glanced over her shoulder. _She moved_, Parker thought, not daring to speak in case she scared Emily, who was now frowning.

"Why did you do that?" Emily asked in a characterless voice, swiping her hand in the air.

"Hi," Parker said, and smiled.

Emily did not smile. She dropped her gaze to her coffee once more.

"Emily," Parker began.

Emily glared.

"You can talk to Jarod. He's a good person."

The younger woman rolled her eyes. "I know that," she told Parker coldly, and then she stopped talking. She glared at her coffee instead.

"Whatever Lyle did to you," Parker said to her own coffee. "You can always talk about it."

Emily snorted. Annoyed with herself, she clamped her mouth shut.

Parker scribbled down her cell phone number on an unused post-it note advertising warehouse luggage and bag sales and slid it across the table to Emily. "Even if you don't feel like talking to Jarod, you can always talk to me."

Emily stowed the post-it note in her padded coat. "I won't," she said.

Parker frowned.

"What?" Emily shouted suddenly, on her feet, chair knocked backward. "What do you want from me?" Emily laughed irrationally, turned on the spot, kicked a table, and stormed out.

Parker ran out after her. What else could she do?

* * *

Emily had thrown herself down in front of a bookstore and sat on her legs, crying into her hands.

Parker walked up to her and knelt down beside her.

Emily did not look around at her.

Parker ignored the on-lookers and placed a hand on Emily's back, although she didn't know what to do after that.

"I don't want him to touch me," Emily sobbed, speaking through her fingers. Tears dropped onto the pavement and darkened the concrete where they fell. "I don't even want him to look at me."

Jarod found them there like that, but he did not come any closer. He just stood and watched, like the any number of on-lookers that had come and passed.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	7. Chapter 7

Emily popped a chocolate in her mouth, closing the little cardboard windows on the advent calendar. _Sixteen days until Christmas_, she thought blandly.

She pulled on a padded red coat and walked to the hospital where she worked as a nurse.

* * *

Ms. Denis had asked Parker to arrange for Lyle's things to be moved out of his apartment. He had been her brother after all.

Parker had not refused the opportunity.

She stood outside now, squinting up at the cramped townhouse. It was all factories behind the row of jammy townhouses. She stooped on the top step and scooped up the various items of mail that were now soggy from rain and frosty mornings. They would go to the trash.

Sydney stamped up the steps behind her, three Sweepers in tow.

Parker watched as everything was boxed, later to be examined and returned, presumedly to Parker, as Lyle's next of kin, or if refused, to be filed into storage or destroyed.

She walked through the rooms, staying only to examine each room by sight. She found a large stuffed penguin with scuffed unblinking black eyes and decided that she would give it to her baby brother, before tramping to the kitchen and taking a seat.

* * *

The card was transparent, about the size or a standard bank or credit card, though thicker and heavier, and made of a plastic compound from what he could tell.

Emily had come up to him the night before and presented the card and what looked to be an external drive with a power outlet, cable and USB plug. So now he had some sort of player and a strange credit card.

Jarod had chosen a table out of the way when he had come into Starbucks so that he could work on his laptop in peace. Sipping his coffee, he reluctantly removed the external drive from his laptop carry bag and plugged it into an available port.

He was still not sure about this, but he was sure Emily would not have given him anything that was likely to explode in his face or blow out an entire block of buildings. He might have plucked up the courage to ask her what she had given him exactly, but she was at work, and the excuse seemed to satisfy him for now though he knew it was exactly that, an excuse.

He would give this thing a shot before he went off making himself look all un-genius in front of his little sister.

He liked to think he was a reassurance to her, a comfort, and that she could trust him to look after her.

The drive registered on the laptop, ran an installation, and he inserted the card into what he hoped was the appropriate slot and double-clicked the drive icon which had been listed as untitled drive and was now listed as untitled device.

An unfamiliar program, which stated that it was a viewing platform, initiated, and Jarod had just enough time to make out the Center insignia which meant that what he had just installed on his laptop was Center programming. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach as he waited for the display window to open.

Once the window had opened, Jarod was able to see that numerous files were listed and had been named according to subject. His eyes rested on the file named RF_JAROD. He scanned down the list, noting the file names: RF_KYLE, UF_GEMINI, UF_MIRAGE, RF_ANGELO, UF_MELANIE.

He stared at the screen for a long time, thinking over his next move, when he recalled something from the program initiation screen that had popped up when he had started the program and decided to take a look at the program properties. He had only seen it for a few seconds, so he had not had time to look over and read the entire copyright and licence.

He squinted at the smaller screen that now appeared, reading the words aloud in his head.

Mantable (R) 2001 Version 9.563.320

Copyright (c) Center Corporation 1975-2001. All rights reserved.

Authorised Lyle Parker

He stared at the screen but nothing changed. He suddenly felt sick with anger. So this was what his sister had gone to Blue Cove to find!

* * *

"Bloody files!" Jarod was ranting.

Parker eyed him carefully from across the table. "Did you look at them? Did you even think to look at them?" she asked calmly.

Jarod fell silent, annoyed. He knew she was right, of course.

"Look at them," Parker told him. Retrieving the thing from inside his jacket, Jarod tossed the card at her. She tossed it right back. "What is that?" she yelled.

Jarod stared at her in confusion. "It's a storage device, Miss Parker."

Parker shook her head. "I'm not touching that!" she assured him.

Jarod frowned. "What do you mean?"

Parker glared.

"I touched it," Jarod told her. "I'm alright."

Parker's eyes narrowed.

"It's what Emily gave me. It's what the files are stored on," Jarod went on.

"Have you got one of those-?"

"A drive?" Jarod asked. "Yes."

Parker nodded.

"The software was registered to Lyle," Jarod said.

Parker frowned. "Emily stole it?" she thought out loud. "I mean, how did she even know what it was?"

"What is it?" Jarod asked.

"It's not used in the US," Parker told him. "It was developed in Africa in the 60s. I think it's used in Canada. I don't even know if they use it in Africa."

"I assume it has a name," Jarod said.

Parker looked at him. "Biomechanical technology, Jarod. That means alive. They're usually specific to one person. One person can activate them and one person only."

"Do you think it is specific to me?" Jarod asked, more intrigued than cautious.

"No. If the drive is calibrated properly, you can read just about any biomech."

Jarod frowned. He had not heard of this technology before.

"What are you thinking?"

"It is truly alive?" Jarod asked.

Parker sighed. "Yes, Jarod. It has fangs and will as soon as bite you as it sits there looking all innocent and plasticy. Keep your eyes peeled, it could grow legs and dash out that door any moment."

Jarod laughed.

"I didn't know Lyle worked in Canada," Parker admitted.

Jarod frowned, watching her.

Parker rolled her eyes. "You're not at all curious?"

"After what he did to Emily?" Jarod growled. "After what he's done to my whole family? To all of us?"

Across the table, however, Parker's expression hadn't changed.

Jarod sighed, ticked off. "What's in Canada?" he growled.

"Not much actually," Parker told him. "An experimental eugenics facility and that's it."

"A what?"

"Pet farm," Parker said.

Jarod stared.

"Eugenics," Parker reminded him.

Jarod ran a hand over his hair. "It's NuGenesis all over again."

Parker nodded.

Jarod shook his head.

Parker sighed. Another aspect of the Center Jarod had not known about. She could tell by looking at him that it frustrated him. _He is supposed to be the enemy_, she reminded herself, yet she was here, talking to him, drinking coffee with him. She held out her hand.

She would take a look at the biomech now.

Jarod passed the card across the table.

"Still, it is strange to think that it's alive," Parker admitted, holding the card up to the light and squinting. "I need to talk to Emily," she concluded, handing the thing back to Jarod. She wasn't sure, but she thought the thing had made her fingers feel tingly.

* * *

Parker watched Emily sip her electric blue slushie through a pink straw. It was one of the few times she had not ordered a black coffee.

"It tastes like watermelon," Emily informed her, noticing that the older woman had been eyeing her for some while.

"Who gave you the biomech, Emily?" Parker asked, straight to the point.

Emily looked up at her. "I took it," she said blankly. "I took it and nobody stopped me."

Parker frowned. "Did you take it from Lyle's office?"

Emily made a face, confused.

"The Center doesn't use biomech technology in the US," Parker explained.

"He had others," Emily said. "He wasn't going to miss just one. I bet he never even knew I took it."

"But it was Lyle's?" Parker pressed.

"Yes!" Emily answered, annoyed. "It was Lyle's."

"The drive too? He wasn't going to miss that either?"

Emily frowned. "He had one in his laptop. It was an external drive. I guess I thought I'd just take it and hope he didn't find out that I had."

Parker sighed. "How did you know what it was in the first place?" she questioned.

"He showed me some," Emily told her. "They had other stuff on them. Recordings. Probably originally stored on DSAs and then transferred."

"He had that kind of software?" Parker asked.

Emily frowned. "He was an ex-tech. Of course he had that kind of software."

"Lyle was a tech?"

Emily nodded. "Yes. In Canada, he said."

"He told you that?"

Emily nodded again. "Yes."

Parker frowned. "Why?"

"I don't know," Emily told her.

Parker considered this for a moment. "You're not telling me something," she finally said. She made a point of meeting Emily's eyes. "Actually, I think there's a lot you're not telling me."

Emily did not look away, but she said nothing either.

"Did he think that you would turn on your own family-"

Emily dropped her eyes to her slushie.

"Emily?" Parker said.

Emily's lip wobbled. She looked as though she was trying not to cry.

"Emily?" Parker said again.

"I was in Canada," Emily breathed. "I was his… girlfriend."

Parker stared. "What are you saying?"

"I was in Canada," Emily repeated in that same flat voice.

"I don't understand," Parker told her.

"I was in Canada!" Emily said a third time, raising her voice, almost rambling now. "I was there, at the facility. They gave me to him."

"They gave- They gave you to him?" Parker interrupted.

"Things don't work the same there," Emily told the table, annoyed, staring at it as though willing it to catch fire.

Parker frowned.

"He never did anything to me that I didn't want him to," Emily told the table again.

"Emily," Parker told her gently. "Look at me."

Emily lifted her chin carefully as though not to upset the tears that wanted to come out and run down her cheeks. "Why'd you take him away from me?"

* * *

"She just ran off," Parker explained into her cell phone. "I couldn't stop her." She didn't tell Jarod what Emily had told her. She told him that Emily had stolen those things, and that was all she told him.

* * *

Emily sat on her bed, legs crossed, playing Bejewelled on her laptop computer.

Parker stood in the doorway, watching her. She wasn't sure if Emily knew she was there. Perhaps she did. Perhaps she was ignoring her on purpose.

She made up her mind. She walked to the bed and sat down, still watching Emily. Her eyes hadn't moved from the computer game. "What did he do to you?" she implored.

Emily stopped playing the game and got very still.

Parker frowned. She knew she was making her uncomfortable, but she couldn't leave.

"He cared about me," Emily said automatically. "He might have been mad but he cared about me."

Parker felt her eyes prickle. How could she put it into words for Emily to understand? Lyle didn't care about anyone but Lyle.

"He left her because he didn't want to hurt her," Emily went on after some time. "I understand that now. I hated him. I hated him so much. But he was so scared. He was so scared he would hurt her. So he left."

She looked around, at Parker.

"Isn't that what they always say?" she asked, a desperate sort of emptiness to her voice. "They always tell you to walk away."

Parker stared into her eyes. She wouldn't speak, but couldn't look away either.

"She ran away when she was old enough. He told me that much." She blinked. "I don't know if he was glad. I was scared to ask."

"Who ran away, Emily?" Parker asked, finding her voice, and hating herself.

"Our daughter," Emily answered. She didn't smile.

Parker looked at the hand that had slid to cover her stomach.

"She would have liked a sister," Emily said.

Parker wanted to put her arms around her. She wanted to put her arms around her and cry. But she wouldn't.

Emily stroked her stomach absently, her face blank.

* * *

Parker told Paulie about Canada, about how Emily – 'Madeline' – had been given to Lyle. Madeline had rung her, she said. Of course, she hadn't told Paulie that Madeline was Jarod's sister, that Madeline was staying with Jarod.

Paulie stared at her, truly sickened, sitting on the sofa in Parker's lounge.

"God!" Parker said suddenly.

Paulie blinked.

Parker stood quickly. "I need coffee," she explained quickly. "I'll be back. How about you? Coffee?"

"I'm fine," Paulie told her.

Parker nodded, walked from the room.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	8. Chapter 8

"They progressed from branding to biomechanical tagging fairly early on in the 60s," Diamond explained. He'd been reading up. "That means he's a Gen 1 or early Gen 2. He's been away from home for some time."

Jerry frowned in scepticism. The thing was still the enemy.

"Nobody's coming for him," Diamond assured the group, though Jeanne still did not look consoled.

"If it is a Healer," Marshall spoke up, "I mean, we've all seen it, felt it… What did they do to it to induce such massive negative feedback? Why- why didn't it tell them of the risk? Do you think we are truly safe?"

Jerry shook his head. "We are Gen 2, Gen 3. I, myself, am Gen 2."

"I too," Diamond agreed.

"I am Gen 3," Marshall spoke.

"Gen 3," Jeanne contributed.

"And it is Gen 1," Jerry told them. "It simply was not able to process the input correctly. It is expected of the Gen 1 series."

Jeanne nodded, perhaps to reassure herself that that was what it was.

* * *

Ocee walked with Peel and eight Tower Sweepers. Peel was taking her to visit the Tower Healers, he had said.

She was directed into a small room and sat on in a minimalist armchair that was missing its arms. A woman entered sometime after. She was young, boyish, with a boyish stride as she walked. She was here to assess the unborn's progress, Peel had said before.

The boyish woman walked to where Ocee stood and planted a palm across her forehead. After a minute, she nodded and stepped away from Ocee once more.

"It is well," she said in her deep voice.

Peel glanced at her and beckoned her over with a finger.

Cautiously, she approached the Tower doctor.

Peel leant close to her and whispered into her ear.

"I cannot do that!" the woman cried, reeling backward from the doctor. "Why would you ask such a thing?"

"It's alright," Peel assured her, looking uncomfortable. "I could bring in one of your friends to help you."

The woman gaped. "We could not do that with twenty Healers!" she protested.

Peel frowned, starting to become very annoyed. "Of course you could!" he told her matter-of-factly.

"I will not!" the woman said firmly.

Peel shot the Sweepers a glance and they moved forward, each walking toward the woman.

"It cannot be done!" the woman hollered, Sweepers taking hold of her.

"It will be done," Peel told her as he walked from the room.

Ocee remained unmoving as the woman was removed from the room by four Sweepers, and another four stayed to watch over her.

* * *

Angelo held his breath, but the sensation had passed. Annoyed, he continued walking until he reached Parker's office. Raising a hand, he knocked twice, and waited for the door to be attended.

* * *

Parker stood from her desk, sighed, and walked to the door. "What?" she shot, pulling back the door.

Angelo strode into the office without a second glance.

Parker closed the door behind her and turned slowly. "Angelo?" she said, frowning at his attire, though she did like the reading glasses.

"Take Angelo father house," Angelo told her blankly, and squinted, eyeing the stuffed penguin. He bent over. "Sydney?"

"My house? You want to go to my house, Angelo?" Parker asked, frowning.

Angelo shook his head, still observing the penguin. "Angelo father house," Angelo told her.

Parker walked across the room and stood behind him. "Raines? Angelo, so you want to go to Raines's house?" Raines had made Angelo after all, had made Timmy into Angelo.

Angelo turned sharply. He nodded once, serious. "Raines house."

"Okay," Parker finally said, though she didn't know why she had. She was sure Angelo would not be allowed to simply stroll out the front door.

"Goodbye, Sydney," Angelo said as he walked to the door with Parker.

* * *

Parker did not dare stop walking. She could not believe Angelo had just walked out, and nobody had stopped him.

She had a vague notion where Raines's house might be, a street name, a number, but she had never actually driven over there before, so it was some time before she was able to locate the street, and finally the correct house.

It was just a house, unlike her own house, with a front yard that didn't even have a front fence but did have dead grass and a set of concrete steps up to the door. It was not what she had expected.

She pulled up beside the footpath.

* * *

"No spare key," Angelo said simply, and Parker frowned. Who did not keep a spare key?

Unconcerned, Angelo took a key from his smart suit jacket and slotted it into the lock, opening the door.

Parker hastily followed him inside. She was not about to complain right now.

* * *

It was one of those houses where the architecture was to some forever a painful reminder that it was built in the fifties.

Angelo walked ahead. Parker picked up her pace and followed suit.

Angelo stopped in front of a door for a moment of thought before he pushed the door and strode inside, walking to the closet.

It was a bedroom, Parker noted. "Is there anything I can help with?"

Angelo frowned, turned away from the closet.

"What are you looking for?" Parker asked.

"Edna," Angelo replied.

"You want me to help you find something that belonged to Edna?" Parker said, walking to the bureau.

Angelo nodded.

She glanced at the photograph before walking to the closet. She stopped beside Angelo and stooped, retrieving a large green bear. "This was hers," she said.

Angelo made a face.

"It's from the Show," she explained.

Angelo rubbed his jaw.

Parker nodded. "The clowns. That's right."

Angelo squinted. Those clowns confused him. How they kept their mouths open all day and let people throw things into them.

Parker handed the bear to him.

Angelo took the green bear, waiting.

_She was spinning around, blonde curls lifting with the motion. She laughed, bright colours all around her. She stopped, her stomach taking a little while to catch up to the fact. "Where do you want to go?" she asked happily._

_Miss Parker cast her eyes in front of her, bored and annoyed. She was 14. She could not believe her father had actually talked her into going to this stupid fair thing! She could not believe he had talked Raines's wife into taking her, come to that._

"_Cotton candy," she grumbled._

_Edna beamed._

_Fast forward: Miss Parker stared at the woman holding her blue cotton candy, a stick of pink cotton candy in her own hand._

"_Where to next?" Edna asked, chewing on a wad of cotton candy she had torn off and popped into her mouth._

_Miss Parker turned away momentarily, in pretence of looking around, and rolled her eyes. When she turned back, Edna was practically jumping with excitement. "Oh, look!" she cried, pointing to the row of games stalls._

_Miss Parker blinked. Mrs. Raines wanted to play children's games. She dropped her shoulders. "Cool," she intoned lamely and started walking._

_Fast forward: Miss Parker winced and tried to ignore the woman cheering encouragement in her ear, her face slowly turning a shade of embarrassment despite her best efforts to keep it from doing so._

_Parker shoved the bear away from her. That man had given her the creeps! "You keep it!" she told Edna, stomping off in the direction of the show bags._

_Edna stared at the bear for a few moments, smiling, and then she hurried to catch the teenager up. "Thank you so much," she said, head tilting to a side._

_Parker flashed her best happy smile._

_Edna beamed._

Angelo was not surprised at the woman's accent. She had been born in Iceland, he knew this. "Give." He pushed the bear toward her.

"Yes, I gave Edna the bear," Parker replied.

"Find!" Angelo decided.

Parker frowned. "I'm sorry, Angelo."

Angelo looked at her sharply.

"She's dead," Parker explained.

"Alive!" Angelo said, frowning at the bear. "Like Faith."

Parker frowned. "Faith died too, Angelo. Do you mean… her spirit?"

Angelo lifted his chin. He made a face. He did not see spirits. Parker knew that. "Alive!" he repeated.

"No," Parker shook her head.

"Raines make alive!" Angelo said finally, very annoyed now.

Parker stared at him. "Raines? He made Edna alive? Did he clone her?"

Angelo stared at her seriously as though he thought she was unwell. "Raines make alive!" He rolled his eyes. "Not dead. Alive. Abracadabra."

"Abra- abracadabra?"

Angelo put the bear down on the bed and placed his hands on Parker's face. "Dead," he said. "Alive."

"Magic, Angelo, he used magic?"

Angelo nodded.

"And he had to touch her to… make her not dead?"

Another nod.

"And he Hea- he made Faith not dead also?"

Nod.

Parker frowned. "How do you know?"

"Faith mad Paulie."

"Faith is angry at Paulie?" Parker said. "Why is Faith angry at Paulie?"

"Paulie bang. Friend dead."

"Lyle?" Parker said suddenly. "Faith is angry because Paulie shot Lyle? Angelo?"

Angelo nodded once.

"Show me! Show me Faith!" Parker told him.

Angelo made a face.

"I want to meet her!"

* * *

Persephone rubbed her face. She needed a coffee. Taking leave of her desk, she exited her office, and strode along the corridor, headed for the nearest coffee machine. She was not going to tick another thing until she had had a coffee, paperwork be damned.

She stopped in front of a coffee machine and slotted in her coins, sighing heavily. She really needed this coffee. "Would you like a coffee too, Angelo?" she said without turning.

Angelo frowned. How come she always knew when he was standing behind her?

The light went out and she retrieved her coffee, turning to face Angelo, and her eyes landed on Parker. "Hi," she said, clearly unimpressed.

Parker stared at the woman.

Persephone shifted her eyes to peruse the corridor, and seeing no other people, seemed to relax, and sipped her coffee. "Nice bear!" she commented.

Angelo looked at her uncomfortably. That was another thing. The way she looked at him sometimes, and her voice.

"Persephone," Persephone introduced, extending her free hand, eyes lingering on Angelo a moment before moving to Parker.

"Miss Parker," Parker replied, and took the woman's hand briefly.

Persephone sighed.

Angelo looked away from her.

"I have to work," she said finally, and walked away.

* * *

Parker turned and glanced at Angelo. She had a strong feeling that Persephone had been referring to more than just the bear when she had commented that something was nice. "She doesn't like you, does she?"

Angelo glared uncomfortably.

Parker forced down a smile. "That was Faith, huh?" she said.

Angelo nodded to the floor.

Parker sighed. Poor Angelo actually believed that Persephone had once been Faith.

* * *

Sydney frowned and glanced at Angelo, who was sitting with the green bear, turning around and around in the chair, humming _Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer_.

Parker had explained the whole incident to himself and Broots, and was now awaiting his comment. Unfortunately, Broots had started to sing along badly under his breath and Sydney could not bring himself to tell him to please desist.

Sydney walked to the chair and paused in front of Angelo. "Angelo, why do you want to find Edna?" he asked carefully.

Angelo glanced at him, stopped humming.

"Is there some special reason that you need to find Edna? Perhaps you have something to ask her? A question."

Angelo squinted. He stood abruptly. He walked to the door and out into the corridor.

Parker shook her head. Great! So Sydney had to let him walk out the door!

Broots stared. Why had Sydney just let him go?

Sydney sighed. He was not going to force Angelo to speak.

* * *

Angelo flopped back on the sofa in Commons. Persephone was in her office, working, so Angelo had put a rock CD on and sat down to play Chuzzle on Lyle's laptop and sing along to the songs the way he never had and Lyle always had.

People would look at him and they would think that he couldn't feel or else that everything he felt was recycled from someone else. He did have his own feelings, it was just that he didn't know what to do with them; there were too many, or they were too overwhelming, so he just didn't react at all.

He did feel things, but then there were the times that his psychic streaming overtook him and he was just that thing that channelled things.

Externally he was Angelo, Raines's favourite toy, but inside he had moments when he was able to think, to feel, to form coherent thought and follow logical conclusions.

The heavy bass dulled his Empathy, and he had heard it said somewhere – though he could not recall where – that alcohol would too.

He could not concentrate on the computer game, so he put the laptop aside and lay down. He did feel things, and he missed the things that had been the same way for the most part of his life when they changed, missed people when they were gone.

* * *

Parker walked up to the sofa. She wasn't sure if Angelo was asleep, or just pretending to be asleep. Personally, she would have found it hard to sleep with music playing that loud, but Angelo usually slept with all sorts inside his head.

She watched him a moment before strolling to the stereo and turning the volume down and switching it off.

Walking back to the sofa, she noticed the laptop on the little table in front of the sofa, and turned it around, then she switched that off too.

* * *

Later, Parker invited Paulie and Debbie around to her house for drinks and a chat, though Debbie wasn't old enough to have alcohol yet, so she would be having hot chocolate, juice or soft drink.

"Coffee," Debbie said, taking a seat on the sofa, and moving a piece around on the checkers board.

Parker had started the game four days ago, late one night, and had not finished it. It was boring playing board games alone, as well as confusing.

As she was doing this, Debbie hummed something so remarkably similar to the music Parker had heard Angelo listening to or not listening to earlier that day that she assumed that it was the same music.

Paulie went with her to the kitchen to help with the cocktails and Debbie's coffee. "She'll have juice," Parker told Paulie, and Debbie was poured a glass of chilled apple juice.

Debbie rolled her eyes when she saw that the apple juice was for her, though it was so typical of Parker that she did not complain, beside, she did not usually like making people feel bad, and she especially did not like making her friends feel bad. Sure, if they could take it, or if it was really called for, but she could drink one glass of apple juice without throwing a temper tantrum, couldn't she?

Parker introduced Debbie to Paulie and Paulie to Debbie, explaining that she worked with Paulie, and Debbie nodded, sipping her apple juice.

"Do you have any friends?" Paulie asked Debbie, turning on her with a voice one might address at a small child, but hardly a 15-year-old.

"I have enough," Debbie told her.

Parker glanced at her. There was no need for such hostility, her look said.

Debbie sipped her apple juice and pretended she hadn't seen Parker looking at her.

Parker and Paulie talked whilst Debbie played checkers by herself, and then they watched _Kill Me Later_ on DVD, and Paulie went home. Debbie got to sleep over, eat pizza for dinner, and talk to Sydney for half an hour on the telephone before bed.

"I can't believe you work with that woman," Debbie said, sipping her hot tea.

Parker stared at her.

"She's scary," Debbie continued. She placed her cup down and looked at Parker. "Do you have playing cards? I'll read your fortune."

"I don't have cards. But I think it's time for you to go to bed."

Debbie moaned. "I'm not sleepy."

Parker frowned at her.

Debbie rolled her eyes. Sheesh, she was doing it already!

* * *

Diamond stared at Peel. The man was out of his mind! A stark raving lunatic! What he was proposing was not done.

_Could not_ be done.

There was no argument to be had, not even any discussion, simply 'cannot be done'. "What you are asking is unacceptable. It is impossible. If you have heard otherwise, I am very sorry for you, but it is simply fictitious non-sense," he told the Tower doctor.

"No," Peel rebuked. "It will be done."

**

* * *

**

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	9. Chapter 9

Lyle's funeral was the day before Christmas.

The receptionist, a young Japanese woman, cried. Cox's two nurses – one slim, pale, and blonde; the other tanned, womanly and Mexican-American – put arms around her. Sam and Cox attended, a short blonde standing with them and Persephone.

Sydney and Broots were there, of course, because Parker was there. Ms. Denis even came with Dr. Brown, another Tower doctor and the Parker family doctor for as long as Parker could remember, and even then, it had been his father before him.

As she was leaving with Sydney and Broots, Parker saw Lucy hurry past, collecting the small Japanese woman to her in a hug and speaking to her quietly in Japanese. Parker caught the words "cousin" and "Midori" before the cold drove her to pick up her feet and move faster.

* * *

"It's impossible!" Broots burst, earning a glare from Parker and a frown from Sydney. Broots had always come through for them in the past, and he was Blue Cove's top tech, though he was still waiting for the trophy.

"Surely all you need is a clear mind and time," Sydney instructed. "I believe you can do this."

Broots sighed, glancing at Sydney. "Thanks, Syd, but I don't think I can." He rubbed his temples with his knuckles.

Parker shook her head.

"I think I might need help," Broots finally conceded. He made a mental note to find out by whatever means possible who had designed the Canadian system.

* * *

Jarod spent the morning Christmas Day watching a family movie – Emily fell asleep midway through the movie – and then decided to phone Parker.

Parker explained about the eugenics facility she had mentioned in an earlier talk and told him that Broots might need his help in hacking the place, to which Jarod smiled.

Of course, she did not tell him why she needed to hack the facility, or the information she was intending to look for, instead she told him something about Catherine which he bought immediately to her relief, though she felt slightly guilty for having done so, and arranged for a time for him to ring her back.

* * *

Parker sat on her sofa, leant over the coffee table, and opened Christmas cards.

She was surprised to see that Paulie had sent her a Christmas card, and even more surprised to see that Angelo had. Broots and Debbie had sent her a card of course; as had Ms. Denis; Sydney, Michelle and Nicholas; Sam; Cox; Midori the desk girl; a date who had managed, to her dread, to remember her name and address; Jarod, of course, and a woman named Ignacia who had included a time and date and venue.

Parker found this slightly disturbing, though she wondered whether she should go.

It was in two days time, December 27.

* * *

Parker finally decided that she would go, but that she would take her gun as a precaution. It was Burger King, so it was a public place, but she still had her reservations.

She arrived right on time and glanced around the fast food restaurant. What would Ignacia look like she wondered? Would she be old? Would she be young? As she was wondering this, a woman across the restaurant waved.

She looked Mexican-American, Parker decided, making her way to the woman's table. "I'm Ignacia," the woman said, but offered no hand, and instead stared at her.

Parker took a seat opposite the woman, feeling very uncomfortable. "What is this about?" she asked coldly, straight to the point. "I don't know you. Why would I want to meet a perfect stranger, and why would a perfect stranger want to meet me?"

"You're Bobby's cousin," Ignacia said evenly. "The person he was so interested in who lived in Blue Cove, Delaware."

Parker stared for a moment. "Wh-what?" she said.

"I'm Bobby's ex-best friend…" Ignacia said. "Well, ex-girlfriend. The point is, I knew Bobby. And you're Bobby's cousin."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Parker told her flatly. "I don't know this Bobby person whose cousin you're accusing me of being."

Ignacia frowned. "Right," she said. "And you're going to tell me that your name isn't Melody either?"

Parker watched the woman for a moment. "It isn't!" she said. Her name was Melanie now.

The only person who knew her real name was Raines. Not even Jarod knew her real name.

This woman could not possibly know that Melody was her real name.

Producing her Driver's License, she passed the card across the table for the woman to examine.

Ignacia glanced at the card before passing it back, sceptical.

Parker sighed. It would be best to look as though she was trying to be helpful, she decided, and that way she deny everything and be rid of the woman. "Let me get this straight. Your friend, Bobby, is missing, and you're looking for him? Is that right?"

Ignacia frowned. "Yes," she finally answered.

Parker nodded. "Do you have a photograph or something, that way I could tell you if we've ever met?"

Ignacia dug around in her tote bag – the Christmas tag was still attached to it and Parker could see that it was from an Ivy – pulling out a small album and flicking to a photograph. She turned the album around so that Parker could see the photograph. "Jimmy, me, Bobby," she told Parker. Clearly Jimmy was the smartly-dressed member of the group, and Ignacia had braces on her teeth.

"Have you talked to Jimmy?" Parker asked, knowing that Ignacia can't have because Jimmy was dead. As much as it was cruel, it had to be said to keep up the façade.

"Jimmy's dead," Ignacia said.

"I'm sorry," Parker apologised immediately. "And I'm sorry, I've never met Bobby before."

Ignacia snapped the album shut. "I don't suppose you would know who Sydney is either?" she said, tucking the album away inside her tote bag.

"I'm sorry," Parker repeated.

Ignacia shook her head.

"Look, I have a friend who is a police officer," Parker began.

"So do I," Ignacia interrupted stiffly.

Parker sighed.

"Ignacia!" a girly voice screamed from somewhere behind Parker, and two women came into view and stopped beside the booth.

Ignacia moaned. "Chelsea, Ivy," Ignacia acknowledged.

"Ignacia," the black-haired woman replied.

"Get outta town!" the woman Parker presumed to be Chelsea piped up. "This is so freaky! All of us here, at the same time."

Ignacia rolled her eyes.

"Actually, it is a coincidence," Ivy explained. "We had been planning to go to Pennsylvania, then Chelsea changed her mind and decided we should go to Delaware."

Chelsea made big eyes. "Wouldn't it be so cool if we bumped into Bobby! I think I'd scream and run for it."

Ivy glanced at her friend, concerned.

Ignacia frowned.

"Chelsea," Ivy said firmly.

Chelsea narrowed her eyes suddenly. "You reckon he would remember us?"

Ivy shook her head. "Chelsea, we are not going to bump into Bobby!"

Chelsea looked at her and made a face. "Don't jinx it, V!" she complained.

Ivy snorted.

"Remember that time I shoved him over in Drama?" Chelsea asked suddenly.

"We were twelve, Chelsea!" Ivy reminded her.

Chelsea giggled. "Yeah but Jimmy shouted at me real loud."

"You cried. Yeah, I remember," Ivy said.

"And then you shouted at Jimmy."

"And Sunny yelled at us both!"

Chelsea giggled.

"There are more towns in Delaware than just Blue Cove," Ignacia interrupted the pair.

"Yeah, but Bobby wrote it in Ivy's mom's cookbook that time we had cooking class and everyone brought cookbooks or cooking magazines to school except Bobby forgot to ask his mom so he had to share with V, but we swapped and Ivy and me shared my mom's instead."

Ivy nodded. She remembered that.

"What has that got to do with anything?" Ignacia demanded.

Chelsea stared at her. "He was our friend too."

Ignacia laughed raucously. "He was not!" she shouted.

"Well, he was our classperson," Chelsea countered lamely.

Ivy stepped in between the two women, who were now sharing frosty glares. "Look, we just wanted to see Blue Cove. I doubt Bobby would have come here of all places. He would have hated the ocean. He didn't like water."

"Yeah, but that was when he was seven," Chelsea protested. "He would have forgotten all about that."

Ignacia glared.

"Right, Chez?" Chelsea said, turning to Ignacia now.

Ignacia crossed her arms. "Wrong," she said.

"What happened when Bobby was seven?" Parker interrupted, causing the two newest arrivals to stare at her. She was the odd one out in this discussion.

"Bobby almost drowned," Ivy said coldly, glancing at Ignacia. What was this woman, some kind of P.I.? "She a P.I.?" Ivy shot.

Ignacia glared. "No. She is not," she growled.

"You guys!" Chelsea interrupted. "Do you think if we all held hands and thought the same thing – and if Bobby was here – do you reckon he would come?"

Ivy stared at her.

Chelsea blinked. "Ignore me," she said.

Ivy plastered her hands over her face and huffed. "Chelsea and I are leaving now," she said to Ignacia, who looked out the window. Ivy turned away and Chelsea followed, the pair walking out of the restaurant.

"How did Bobby almost drown?" Parker asked Ignacia, who was now watching Ivy and Chelsea climb into a car and drive away.

"He fell in the water, that was all," Ignacia replied blankly, watching the parking lot.

"Were you there? Did you see it happen?"

Ignacia snorted and turned to look at her. "Yeah, I was there. We all were, the whole class. We were on an excursion for school."

"Didn't someone try to get him out of the water?" Parker pressed.

"Yeah," Ignacia said. "But Bobby didn't swim."

"But he would have struggled."

"No," Ignacia said.

Parker frowned. "He wanted to drown?" she asked.

Ignacia stared at her. "Of course he didn't want to drown!" she scolded. "He just forgot. That was all."

"He forgot that he couldn't swim and would drown if nobody came to get him out?" Parker proposed incredulously.

"Yes," Ignacia said.

Parker stared. "Ignacia, did Bobby have problems?" she asked plainly.

"He pretended he did," Ignacia joked and laughed.

Parker did not take her eyes off her.

"The doctors said that he was probably mentally re- handicapped," Ignacia told her seriously.

"Probably?"

Ignacia stared at her empty Coke cup. "He had behavioural problems, learning difficulties and attention problems they attributed to either autism or mental handi-whatever. Plus, he was epileptic."

Parker frowned. "Was Bobby good at anything?" she asked.

Ignacia nodded to the paper cup. "Motors, numbers, music, languages. He liked patterns, orders to things, routine." She sighed. "His favourite colour was green. He used to go to church two times a week, and his grandfather's farm on Saturdays.

"When he was 15, he got an after school job at the local mechanics but he had to leave because his epilepsy got real bad. He always said he wanted to be an airline pilot, even though he had epilepsy. Jimmy said so once or twice, but then he didn't."

"Why was that?" Parker asked.

"Bobby and Jimmy kind of stopped being friends," Ignacia replied. "I mean, sure, Jimmy would talk to me if I talked to him, he would even talk to Bobby, but I reckon he even stopped caring a little bit. About Bobby, I mean."

"Because you chose Bobby instead of him?"

Ignacia frowned. "No," she said. She sighed. "Because Bobby kissed him."

"Why did Bobby do that?" Parker asked.

Ignacia blinked. "Bobby got confused about things sometimes. I guess he thought that was the way to tell Jimmy he cared about him. And Jimmy got freaked out."

"What did you think about it all?"

Ignacia finally looked at her. "Bobby was my friend when nobody else was. Just because he kissed a boy, he was always going to be my friend."

Parker frowned. "And how did Bobby take Jimmy's reaction?"

Ignacia blinked, considering this. "He didn't really act differently, except Jimmy always sat with someone else when we had class and stopped going around to Bobby's house or taking Bobby and me to Cutter's. I suppose he suddenly got interested in girls, and he took them to Cutter's instead.

"He didn't help Bobby with his school work anymore either, and he would always hurry off after a few minutes of talking to Bobby and me."

"Bobby wasn't upset about this?" Parker asked.

Ignacia shook her head. "I guess I never asked. You had to ask with Bobby. And the questions had to be very specific."

"Bobby wasn't friendly?"

"He wasn't unfriendly, he just had a lot of problems," Ignacia told her.

Parker sighed. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of more use," she said finally.

Ignacia shook her head. "It was nice to just have someone to talk to."

Parker nodded, wondering why Ignacia had told her everything she had. She was a stranger, after all. "Why don't I give you my number?" she said. "In case you ever want to talk."

Ignacia looked at her. "Thank you," she said, and Parker wrote out her cell phone number on a Post-it Note – she was slowly getting rid of them – and handed the note to Ignacia.

"I always just hope he's alright, you know," Ignacia said.

Parker nodded. She hoped the same thing about some people.

"Do you think he's found her?" Ignacia asked suddenly. "Do you think he's found Melody?"

Parker shook her head.

Ignacia sighed. "I don't even think I really thought she was a real person. When he was younger, he used to tell me that he saw her, but I think she was just a made up friend. I don't think she was ever real." She rested her forehead against the heel of her palms, elbows on the table.

"You would never have said so, Ignacia," Parker told her. "You cared about Bobby, you didn't want him to be sad or upset."

Ignacia sniffed.

"Ignacia?" Parker asked. "Why did Bobby run away?"

Ignacia shook her head. "The FBI said he killed Jimmy."

"Jimmy- that's how Jimmy died?" Parker said.

Ignacia sniffed again.

"Do you think Bobby killed Jimmy?" she asked.

"I don't know what to think," Ignacia said. "Not that it matters what I think."

"Did Bobby have any reason to want to kill Jimmy?"

Ignacia shook her head. "He was a sociopath," she said blankly, repeating what the FBI investigation had concluded. "Who can say the many reasons he might have fabricated in his head?"

Parker frowned. She felt bad for Ignacia. The woman had no clue whether the person she had thought she had known, the person she had trusted, had been that person at all, or had simply being playing a game the whole time. "Did Bobby ever hurt you?" she asked.

Ignacia blinked. "He hit his mother once or twice, but that was always excused onto his condition."

"He had mood swings?"

Ignacia nodded.

"But he never hurt you, and you were never witness to any of these mood swings?"

"Sometimes he would stop talking, or he would spend whole hours in an unresponsive mood," Ignacia said. "He would just shut down." She frowned and passed an envelope across the table which Parker hadn't realised she had taken out of her tote bag. "He wrote me a Christmas card this year," she said.

Parker took the envelope and took out the card and opened it. _Dear Ignacia_, it said in a shaky hand that looked as though it belonged to a child rather than a forty-something adult. _Happy Christmas. Love and Good Wishes, Bobby._

"It's not Christmas," Ignacia said.

"This is Bobby's handwriting?" Parker asked.

Ignacia frowned. "I think so, yes. It's a bit better than I remember, but I guess it would improve if he practiced."

Parker frowned concertedly. Nothing she had heard so far, nor this card, added up to the person she had known to be Bobby. Ignacia's Bobby was not sophisticated, and not at all like Lyle. Still, looking at the photographs of Bobby, it was clear that they were the same person.

Lyle was a Pretender, she reminded herself. Perhaps it was simply that Bobby had not displayed a natural talent as a Pretender until Raines had intervened? And if this were the case, why had he written his ex-girlfriend after all this time?

"Is this the first time that Bobby has contacted you since the time he ran away?" Parker asked.

"Yes," Ignacia said, staring at the card Parker was holding. Ignacia shook her head. "I don't know why, but the writing doesn't look quite right."

Parker frowned, glancing at the writing once more.

Ignacia sniffed. She looked at Parker. "He used the wrong hand," she said suddenly. "Bobby was left-hand dominant. He was left-handed."

Parker squinted at the writing. Left-handed? She was starting to think that Raines had somehow created a separate personality.

Ignacia shook her head. "No, Bobby never wrote with his right hand except when he wrote Sydney."

Parker frowned, remembering that Ignacia had mentioned the name earlier. "Bobby wrote Sydney letters?" she asked.

Ignacia looked at her for a moment. "No, he just wrote Sydney. Over and over. Just the name, or town, or whatever Sydney is. And it was always with his right hand and it was always very neat."

Had Raines been trying to teach Bobby to forge handwriting, Parker wondered with a little amusement, seeing as Ignacia had all but said that Bobby was practically illiterate. "You said Bobby was good at languages?"

"Speaking them, yes," Ignacia replied. "He spoke English, German and Spanish."

Parker bit her tongue, thinking. "Ignacia," she said after a while. "How did Bobby act with you? I mean, did he come across as though he liked girls?"

Ignacia frowned. "He liked me and Melody fine enough," she said, looking troubled.

"Did Bobby ever show interest in any other girls?"

"I don't remember him ever doing so," Ignacia said, a little concerned now. She looked at Parker. "He was always doing his mom's make up. Even after he hit her and all. It was strange. Like she just accepted that sometimes she got hit."

Parker made a face. "How did Bobby get along with her? Did you see them together ever?"

"She was a hairdresser. Bobby used to go down to the hairdressers after school and wait for her to get off work, until he got old enough to walk all the way home by himself. They seemed to get along fine."

"Bobby didn't drive?"

"He wasn't allowed because of his epilepsy," Ignacia explained. "Jimmy had a pick-up though, except he never let Bobby go inside after Bobby got sick in Dr. Hooper's car. His dad didn't like Bobby."

"Jimmy's dad was a doctor?" Parker said.

Ignacia nodded. "The only doctor in town until he left. He was even Bobby's doctor before Bobby got a new one, and then that psychiatrist started seeing Bobby." She frowned. "He was from Delaware too. Had a real spiffy company car that had Delaware plates."

_Raines_, Parker thought.

"He was real strange," Ignacia said.

"Did you ever meet him? Or ask Bobby about him?"

"He was supposed to make Bobby better," Ignacia told her. "I saw him a couple of times, but I never met him, no."

Parker nodded. "You don't think, if Bobby thought I was this Melody person, that he might hurt me?" she asked abruptly.

Ignacia frowned. "Bobby would never hurt Melody. Melody was special."

"Special?" Parker asked.

Ignacia nodded. "She was always sad or bawling her eyes out. I don't know what kind of imaginary friend is permanently miserable, but that was Melody. Bobby would write her a song every New Year, except Jimmy and me never figured out they were for her. We all just thought he wrote _melody_ there because he had seen it on some piece of music somewhere and thought that was how it was done."

"Okay, now I am officially freaked out!" Parker told her. "If you found me, don't you think there is a chance that Bobby might do the same? And if I told him that I wasn't this Melody, or if he found out that I wasn't, he'd get real mad."

Ignacia looked at her for a moment and opened her hand.

Parker glanced at the three black stones that she supposed were meant to be snails. Two of them were the same, but the last one was smaller.

"They were Bobby's," Ignacia explained.

"A dad, a mom and a baby," Parker said, starting to become very worried now. Just what kind of a lunatic had Bobby been? "You want me to have them?" she said after a moment.

"They always used to calm him down," she explained.

Parker allowed Ignacia to deposit the stones into her hand, and quickly dropped them into her handbag afterward. She didn't want to hold them for too long.

Parker started at the sound of someone singing sea shanties, and Ignacia moaned. Parker didn't have to turn around to know that it was Ivy and Chelsea back again.

Chelsea trottled over and fell right into Ignacia's lap. Ignacia frowned. Chelsea was drunk, even drunker than she had been before.

"Chelsea, let go of Ignacia," Ivy spoke to the drunken woman, a sympathetic note to her voice which was intended for Ignacia's benefit, Parker guessed.

"It's alright, Chelsea," Ignacia said instead, moving the woman onto the seat beside her and allowing her to lean against her arm.

"Did you tell her about Maybelline?" Chelsea slurred, her eyes rolling at odd moments.

Ignacia shot Ivy a look. How had she let Chelsea get so drunk?

"Who's Maybelline?" Parker asked.

"Maybelline is her daughter," Chelsea slurred in answer. "Bobby Joe's daughter too." She pitched forward but was stopped from smacking her head on the tabletop when Ignacia took hold of her with an arm, ignoring Ivy now.

"Maybelline is our daughter, that's right," Ignacia said to Chelsea, stroking her hair.

"I feel sick," Chelsea moaned.

"Up we get." Ignacia pulled the woman to her feet as best she could, and Parker was left alone at the table as Ignacia and Ivy helped Chelsea to the bathrooms.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	10. Chapter 10

Parker drove home. Then she rang Sydney up and asked if he could come around, which he did, and she told him all about meeting Ignacia and the most part of what Ignacia had told her.

Sydney frowned.

"If you're thinking that Bobby doesn't sound a thing like Lyle, I was thinking the same thing too," Parker told him. "You don't think Raines could have induced a multiple personality?"

Sydney shook his head. He was starting to get very sick of hearing about all of the people whose lives Raines had messed about with and messed up.

* * *

Later, Parker, Sydney and Debbie went to McDonald's together. Broots was catching up with computer geek friends. Parker was just sipping her coffee when she spotted Ivy, Chelsea and Ignacia, all sitting together now. "That's them," she said to Sydney quietly, introducing each in turn.

Ignacia waved.

"Do you know those women?" Debbie asked Parker and Sydney, addressing them both but singularly.

Parker nodded shortly.

Debbie shrugged. Parker was getting a whole heap of girl friends these days. "Are they Paulie's friends too?" she asked distastefully.

"No, Paulie doesn't know these women," Parker told her, frowning. "I, myself, just bumped into them this morning. Tourists, Debbie."

Debbie narrowed her eyes and dropped her gaze to her Coke.

"Hi!" Chelsea called, walking over. "I kinda missed your name, so I just came over to ask," she said, thankfully no longer slurring, though Parker could tell she was not yet sober.

"Parker," Parker said, holding out a hand, which Chelsea shook, Ignacia and Ivy converging on either side of her.

"Hi," Debbie said to them all.

Ivy nodded. Ignacia smiled briefly. Chelsea called loudly, accentuating her accent, "Well howdy there!" Ignacia smiled again.

"I'm Debbie," Debbie said.

"Chelsea, Ivy, Ignacia," Chelsea introduced each of them.

Parker glanced at Sydney warningly, who cleared his throat. "Jacob," he said.

Debbie stared at him for a moment, before catching on. He didn't want these women to know that his name was Sydney for some reason.

"You're Belgian, right?" Chelsea asked Sydney. "Like the chocolates."

Sydney frowned. "I am. I was," he said.

"My grandmother was Belgian," Chelsea said.

Ivy gaped at her. "She was not!"

"Was too!" Chelsea breathed. "You never met her."

Ivy glared.

"She was Hungarian," Ignacia corrected calmly.

"Oh yeah," Chelsea said suddenly. "I knew it was something like that."

Ivy shifted uncomfortably.

"European," Chelsea said, and nodded. She liked that much better.

"Uh-hah," Sydney finally said with a frown.

"You mean from Hungry?" Chelsea asked suddenly, turning to Ignacia. "Cos I'm really hungry right now!"

Ignacia laughed. "Hungary, Chelsea!"

Chelsea mumbled. "I'm still hungry," she said, eyes narrowed in anticipated hunger pains.

"Okay, we're going to get something to eat," Ignacia said to Ivy. "Is there anything you would like?"

Ivy huffed. "Coffee!" she said. "And a soft serve cone."

Ignacia nodded. She could do that. Chelsea pelted for the counters and Ignacia walked after her.

Ivy moaned.

* * *

Parker spied Cox's nurses across the restaurant. For a moment, Parker wondered why she had noticed them, and then she noticed that the tanned one was staring at Ignacia. She was carrying an infant, and her friend was holding the hand of a small child a few months over a year. They were both the tanned woman's children, Parker noted.

The woman turned sharply, whispering something to her friend, who looked past her to the counter momentarily, before scooping the older child into her arms, and heading after her friend and toward the door.

"Maybelline?" Ivy called across the restaurant suddenly, having followed Parker's gaze. "Oh my God! _Babies_!"

Maybelline froze, but did not turn. Her friend glanced at her worriedly.

Ignacia was talking to a young man behind the counter, Chelsea with her head on her shoulder.

Ivy held up a hand to excuse herself and rushed across the restaurant, throwing her arms around the woman and baby.

Maybelline's friend took a hasty step away from the strange arm-throwing woman.

"You remember me?" Ivy cried.

"Hello, Ivy," Maybelline intoned blankly.

Ivy grinned. "It's so good to see you! Your mom was so worried. Anything could have happened to you, Coby said. A mad axe-murderer could have axe-murdered you for all we knew."

Maybelline frowned distastefully.

"It's so good to see you!" Ivy said again.

"V, you said you wouldn't do any of that cop stuff when we were on vacation!" Chelsea complained, turning around and noticing that she had ambushed someone.

"It's Maybelline!" Ivy half shouted.

Chelsea frowned.

"Ignacia's Maybelline!" Ivy reminded her.

Maybelline raised a hand lamely.

Chelsea screamed, earning several looks, and cried, "Ignacia, come see quick! It's Maybelline!"

"Okay," Ignacia said, giving in. "It's Maybelline." She collected up the tray and turned around. It was Maybelline.

Maybelline waved again.

"She's your mom?" her nurse friend asked.

Maybelline nodded without looking at her. "What are you- what are you doing here?" she asked, though realising what she must have sounded like, attempted to salvage and rephrase. "I mean, you're on vacation, right? So where are you going next?" She winced. She was really no good at this. "I don't remember us ever going on vacation," she said finally. "It's good that you are. Real good."

Ignacia frowned and nodded.

"This is Charity," Maybelline said uncertainly of the child in her arms. "And this is Savannah."

"It's your grandma," her nurse friend said to the small uncomprehending child.

Ignacia smiled. "I'll get you something to eat. You must be hungry. Your friend too."

Maybelline started to shake her head, but then she sighed. "Okay, mom," she said resignedly. "This is Cherry."

Cherry held Savannah closer to her and smiled weakly.

* * *

Parker glanced at Sydney significantly.

Sydney frowned. He didn't understand what she was trying to say with that look.

"Do you think that Maybelline knew that Lyle was Bobby but was covering for him because he was her father?" she whispered, glancing at Debbie, who had leant closer in order to hear what Parker had been saying to Sydney.

Debbie sat back in her chair.

Sydney frowned, considering what Parker had just said.

"What are you doing here?" Chelsea cried in amazement, across the room.

"I work here," Maybelline informed her.

Chelsea shook her head in wonder.

Maybelline glanced at her mother oddly, and then to Ivy. She hadn't been drinking again, had she?

"That is awesome!" Chelsea was saying.

Ignacia was standing in line to order again.

"Your family are scary," Cherry admitted to Maybelline.

* * *

"They're cute kids," Parker said to Cherry over the sound of several conversations running at once and Chelsea giggling. "Who's their father?"

Cherry glanced at her. "Lyle," she said, and added, "Dead person."

Parker stared at her for half a second. "I'm sorry," she said.

Cherry shrugged. "First Director Raines, and then Lyle," she said depressingly and huffed.

"Director?" Parker asked.

Cherry rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah! Chairman. Damn it, I keep on forgetting. Former Chairman, I mean."

"Director of what?" Debbie butted in.

"Med Space Director," Cherry told her. "But he got promoted to Chairman cos the old Chairman died." She glanced at Parker quickly. "Sorry."

Parker grimaced.

"What's Med Space?" Debbie asked.

"Med stands for Medical," Cherry explained. "It's like sickbay."

Debbie nodded. "Cool."

Parker stared at her coffee but found that she was suddenly not so thirsty anymore.

"My dad's a tech," Debbie said. "So… does he work in Tech Space?"

"That's it. You got it!" Cherry encouraged. "What's your dad's name?"

"Broots," Debbie replied.

"I know him!" Cherry cried. "I think I poured coffee on him once in the dining hall."

Debbie blinked.

"It wasn't my fault!" Cherry protested. "Lyle grabbed me and I got scared. It was cold coffee though," she admitted.

"Oh," Debbie said.

"I had been meaning to chuck it on that awful Autopsy woman! If only Lyle hadn't grabbed me – the little twit!" She coughed. She looked at Parker. "Sorry," she said again.

Parker stared at her before she realised that this woman thought that she had offended her by insulting her dead 'brother' in front of her. "He could be a twit sometimes," Parker agreed.

Cherry grinned. "Like that time Sweeper Space had that Tower evaluation and he smacked that Tower Sweeper because he said something really bad about Kyle. Except Raines told him off later." She looked at Parker. "Did you ever meet Kyle?"

"I did," Parker agreed.

Cherry sighed.

"Autopsy woman?" Parker asked suddenly, shaking her head.

"The blonde woman at Lyle's funeral," Cherry said quietly.

Parker frowned. Blonde woman? She had been standing with Sam and Cox, she recalled. She nodded.

"She was always starting arguments with the Director because she hated Autopsy but he put her on it anyway," Cherry explained. "I don't even know what she was doing at Lyle's funeral. It wasn't as though she liked him. And she just plain wished Raines was dead so she could get Directorship, except then Frankie would become Director – which he is now – because he was Deputy Med Space Director."

"Frankie?"

"Cox," Cherry corrected.

"It must be hard for Maybelline now that Lyle- now that he's gone," Parker said.

Cherry glanced at her friend. "She's real mad," she agreed. "I suggested we key Paulie's car – she drives a Saab – but she wouldn't have a bar of it. She reckoned someone would find out."

Parker nodded, disturbed that this woman was telling her all this.

"Frankie actually laughed at that," Cherry admitted. "He's an odd sort of thing." She frowned suddenly. "Didn't Jacob die?" she asked suddenly, staring at Sydney.

"Yes. He did," Parker said.

"Green is weird sometimes!" Cherry sighed, and hugged Parker.

Parker frowned. Why was this woman hugging her?

"I'm really sorry about Lyle," Cherry babbled, "but he had a good life. Mostly. And you still have Ethan."

"What?" Parker said.

"Ethan?" Cherry said. "Your other brother?"

Parker stared at her.

"Lyle said you had another brother and his name was Ethan," she defended.

"I do. A half brother."

Cherry huffed.

"He told you about Ethan?" Parker said.

Cherry nodded.

Parker frowned.

"He was funny sometimes," Cherry admitted, and smiled. "Did I tell you that we read Spot once?" She frowned. "Well we did. We read a whole lot of Spot books. And Angelo kept leaning on me to look at the pictures! It was so annoying." She shook her head.

"I didn't know you had a brother," Debbie said to Parker.

Parker frowned. "I did. He's dead now…"

"But you still have another brother, right?"

"Yes."

"You should have told me. I didn't even know," Debbie said.

Parker shook her head. "He wasn't a nice person, Debbie. And he certainly wasn't the sort of person I wanted you knowing."

Cherry stared at Parker.

"He was a very dangerous man, Debbie," Parker continued.

Debbie frowned. "You said his name was Lyle," she said. "Dad told me about him."

Parker sighed, shooting her a there-you-go look.

Debbie picked at a cold French fry and chewed on the end of it, staring at the table.

* * *

"It just makes me sick!" Parker told Sydney in the kitchen. She had dropped Debbie off and she was standing in Sydney's kitchen after he had offered her a coffee seeing as how she had let her McDonald's one go cold.

Sydney nodded. It certainly was unpleasant.

"He was her father!"

"I heard someone was making coffee," Michelle said, strolling into the room.

Parker grimaced.

"Hello," Michelle greeted, glancing at Sydney, who nodded. He was making coffee. Michelle beamed. As it happened, she was in a coffee mood. She turned and walked out of the kitchen again.

Parker watched her leave. Did Michelle often walk around the apartment without shoes, she wondered, and glanced at Sydney.

"Ah, yes," Sydney said distractedly, suddenly busying himself with the coffee-making.

Parker frowned, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. _Very awkward moment._

* * *

Michelle watched her interestedly from over her steaming coffee, though staring might have been the word better fit, Parker soon decided. "So, this stiff have a name?" she asked casually.

Sydney frowned in distaste. One did not refer after the deceased as 'stiffs'.

"Anyone I know?"

"Lyle," Parker told her.

Michelle frowned abruptly. "Your brother, sweet?"

Parker raised her eyebrows. "He was no brother of mine," she replied indifferently. "What? I thought you at least would have been happy."

Michelle stood sharply from her chair. "I am not so heartless as to look upon the end of a life as a happy thing," she spoke in affront. "Life is no less life whether it be comrade or enemy. Do not cheapen life, my dear, because it frightens you."

Sydney glanced at Michelle. "If you are quite finished with the dramatics-"

Michelle laughed harshly and then hysterically. She dropped to her knees and fell back on her bottom, hands clasped between her thighs, head bowed, and spoke illegibly into the thin material of the skirt of her dress, mahogany hair cascading about her as though it were a fountain.

It was a moment before Parker realised that she was praying.

* * *

Sydney stood slowly and walked to Michelle sitting on the kitchen floor. "That's enough now, Michelle," he sighed. "Have you forgotten that we have a guest?"

Michelle lifted her face, tears streaming down her face, and it took a second for Sydney to register the bruises.

"What?" he cried, brushing the hair from her face as she stood. The bruises travelled from her face down her neck and across her arms.

Parker stared at the woman, stared at the bruises. It was negative feedback, she thought, her heart quickening. Michelle had the anomaly, she realised, and she had been trying to feel someone, trying so hard she hadn't cared about hurting herself.

Sydney gaped at the bruises, not understanding.

Parker stepped away from the table and approached Michelle, her eyes fixed on the woman rather than where she was placing her feet.

Michelle's tears slid down her face and crashed on the tops of her feet.

Sydney glanced at Parker in confusion as she wrapped her arms around the woman.

* * *

"Did you know Michelle had the anomaly?" Parker asked Sydney, Michelle now asleep upstairs.

Sydney blinked suddenly.

"The bruising is the result of negative feedback, Sydney," she explained in as kind a voice as she could.

Sydney shook his head.

"She has the anomaly," Parker told him. It could not be denied now.

"What's wrong with mom?" Nicholas asked, leant in the doorway, hands in his pockets.

"It's negative feedback, Nicholas," Parker told him.

Nicholas stepped away from the door, a shrug of the shoulders. "Why?"

Parker shook her head.

"You told her, didn't you?" Nicholas said with comprehension.

"Yes," Parker replied, not bothering to deny it.

Nicholas considered this, though he had known he was right as soon as he had said it.

"I don't understand," Sydney interrupted.

Nicholas regarded Sydney for a long moment, a smile slowly reaching his lips. The lights faltered, and upon their return, all of Nicholas's teeth had formed sharp points, his nails darkened and talon-like. His eyes seemed to shine differently, so darkly brown they were almost black. "I apologise if I disappoint you," he spoke in a deep voice.

But Sydney was not disappointed. He was frightened. What was this thing that was supposed to be his child?

Nicholas trailed a hand down the wall beside him, watching Sydney intently.

"Do not apologise," Parker told him.

Nicholas blinked, his gaze intersecting with her own.

Parker held his gaze. His expression was a fact of who he was. Okay, so he had not inherited Sydney's expression. He was no less Sydney's child for it, and if Sydney would love him less for it that was Sydney's mistake.

The lights disappeared again, and when they returned, Nicholas was Sydney's Nicholas again.

"Is- is that what Michelle is?" Sydney stammered.

"Yes," Nicholas replied evenly, though Parker could see by his eyes that he was trying hard not be hurt. He was a monster now. Sydney had not found a family, he had found a pair of monsters. Mother monster and baby monster.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	11. Chapter 11

Denis sighed.

If he was going to die anyway, she decided that it might just be an idea to give it a shot. The uncooperativeness of the Tower Healers, though a hindrance, was not going to stop her from achieving what needed to be achieved.

For far too long, the Center had remained largely ignorant to the Healer expression, and for what reason, when the anomaly that produced Pretenders or Empaths or the Inner Sense was the same anomaly? Why not branch out? Meet the expanding market?

Because they were known for Pretenders and Pretenders alone? Because the Pretender expression was their specialty?

So what?

Nobody was saying that they were going to give the expression any less attention because they were giving another more than they had in the past. And think of the possibilities, she said to herself, were Pretenders and Empaths and Healers able to work together.

Think of that. Wouldn't it be wonderful!

* * *

The Sweepers waited with an irritable Ocee. For some reason, more than usual, she felt uncertain and icky.

Peel had said that he was talking with a Healer, and that he would be back, but that it may take some minutes.

So Ocee waited.

* * *

Peel returned later, just as he had said, with a man – the Healer, Ocee reminded herself – though the man did not look well. Despite the man's appearance of ill health, Peel seemed pleased, though Ocee could not fathom why.

Peel introduced the Healer simply as 'The Healer'. Ocee, of course, assumed that he had a name, just as all the other Healers had names, though she had not been told their names either.

It was only when the Healer sat down opposite her and took up her hands that she remembered that they had met before, the blueness of his eyes. He had been the Healer who had made her better. It was all so confusing to her still, but she remembered that she had been unwell, and then she had simply been well again.

An odd feeling rose in her chest. She was the reason he was unwell, she realised quickly. By making her well, he had made himself unwell. She watched his eyes turn back in his head and a fuzzy feeling spread through her body. She felt very uncomfortable now.

Peel frowned, glancing several times at the Empath triumvirate who had accompanied himself and the Healer into the room. Across the room, the door slid smoothly open, and Denis appeared, two teams of Tower Sweepers with, and a man who just wasn't a Sweeper.

The Healer's eyes returned to their normal position and Peel straightened.

_The Chairman_, Ocee thought. _Chairwoman. Chairperson._ She appeared to be a woman, Ocee noted, though she sensed that this woman preferred to be known as Chairman. She was not able to sense this from the woman herself. In fact, the only person she was able to sense anything from was Peel, whom she found a very uncomfortable person.

Denis halted. "This is Blue," she said. "He will assist."

Ocee's gaze moved from the Healer to Blue's bone white irises, rimmed by a thick sphere of dark grey, and in the right eye, a thin ring of red ran inside the dark grey. A shiver played with the pieces of her spine. She could not fathom why he had been named Blue.

Peel watched Blue, unsure, and nodded, though he had not been told of how Blue was to assist.

Ocee had been watching Blue all this time, and she only now realised how he had not blinked once.

* * *

The woman nurse took her baby. Ocee could not move. They had given her drugs and she couldn't feel a thing. She couldn't even feel how to move her arms.

She lay perfectly still. The Healer and Blue had accelerated the infant's development just over an hour ago, and now her baby was gone. She could not see it.

They had taken it.

She didn't even know what they were going to do with her now. Would they keep her? Kill her? What would they do?

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	12. Chapter 12

Angelo screamed. He screamed loudly. He needed her now.

Parker and Sydney appeared. To stop him screaming. No, it was her office, Parker's office.

Angelo would not stop screaming. He needed her to hear, and he needed her to come.

Sydney didn't understand. Broots was scared. Sydney had been scared out of being scared the day before and it was taking a while to return so that he could be scared again. Parker frowned. She wanted to understand.

Angelo stopped screaming. Someone was here now anyway, and he didn't have to listen to that person telling him that the person he was looking for was not an attendee.

He replaced the telephone cautiously. He did not want to break it. It was Parker's.

"Angelo?" Parker said carefully.

Angelo looked at her.

Parker moved closer to the desk, hit redial on the keypad. She lifted the receiver to her ear, listened for a moment, and hung up. "Why did you ring Blue Cove High?" she asked.

Angelo made a face.

"No. Tell me," Parker told him. She was not a mind reader.

"Annie!" Angelo told her stubbornly.

"Edna! Annie! What are you up to?" Parker shouted.

Angelo stepped back from the desk.

"Miss Parker?" Sydney said, a frown in his voice.

Angelo glared at him. When was he not doing that!

Parker looked at him. Sydney frowned. It was what Sydney did.

Angelo made a face. Sydney could try not to, just for one time!

Parker glared. No he couldn't!

"Find family," he said, annoyed. And Sydney could too!

Parker narrowed her eyes. "Why?" Sydney could not! What was wrong with it anyway? It was Sydney's job to frown.

Angelo turned a glare on Sydney. One time! "NO!" he shouted. He wasn't going to tell her! He wasn't going to tell anyone! But why? He frowned. _Why, dummy?_ he asked himself silently. _I'm not dummy!_ was the response. _Crazy dummy!_ he came back.

Parker stared. Was there a reason exactly Angelo was laughing at her? "Stop laughing at me!" she told him.

"Crazy dummy!" Angelo said.

Parker looked at him as though he had slapped her.

"Angelo!" he amended quickly.

Parker narrowed her eyes. "Tell me why you are trying to find Raines's family?" she demanded.

Angelo shrugged.

"That is not an answer, Angelo!"

He squinted. Since when? It had always worked for Lyle. He sighed inwardly. _But she pretended Lyle was really a stupid dummy, and she knows you're not a stupid dummy, dummy,_ he told himself. _Plus, she's secretly jealous Faith likes you – and that may or may not be a slight exaggeration on the truth._

"You know as well as I do that Edna and Annie are dead! So why are you looking for them?"

Angelo made a face. Well maybe he forgot sometimes! Or maybe he didn't want to know that they were dead! Or- something like that… "Angelo no choice," he huffed.

Parker heaved a sigh. "Talk to me."

Angelo frowned. Gah! Sydney was getting to him! But he couldn't. He couldn't just talk to her. It was too hard. He twisted the string of beads around his right wrist. Not his beads, but a gift.

Parker eyed the beads.

"I feel that I need to find them," Angelo said, thinking about the beads, nothing else. "First Edie, now Annie." Hardly anybody he knew called Edna Edie, except Raines, or Lyle, or Sammy whose name was Sam and not Sammy.

Sydney had stopped frowning, but was now staring.

_Gah! Staring!_

"Why, Angelo?" Parker asked, ignoring the fact that he had used _I_, that he had spoken normally.

_You should just end it now!_ Angelo thought irrationally. _Kill yourself!_ "I'm not sure," Angelo replied. "I've tried, but I can't seem to establish the reason."

"Something you touched perhaps?" Parker suggested.

"No," Angelo said. "This is something else." He twisted the beads. He needed to think.

Should he tell her?

Should he tell Sydney and Broots also? Because they were staring, watching. "This is the opposite of when I tried to find Annie," he finally said. "I felt nothing then. Nothing at all. And I didn't know why. I never knew why." He frowned, but not the same as Sydney. "Now I don't know why I feel this, but I do."

Parker frowned. That was why Jarod had been assigned to find Annie, she realised. Angelo had just admitted that he had been unable, and so it had fallen to Jarod.

"I wanted to. I wanted to find her so badly. But I couldn't. And when Jarod found her, I never even knew. I still don't."

"What do you mean?" Parker asked, a careful frown sitting above her dark eyes.

"Lyle-" Angelo frowned. "Lyle said that it was a conspiracy. He didn't think Annie was dead. He said that they'd taken her and that they were keeping her in a hole in the ground." He blinked. "A 49-storey hole in the ground, admittedly, but a hole in the ground nonetheless."

"What?" Broots interrupted.

"He heard voices in his head!" Angelo said, waving his fingers near his head. "He wasn't exactly what one would term _normal_."

"Lyle had the Inner Sense?" Parker asked.

Angelo grimaced.

"Hole in the ground?" Broots interrupted again.

"A rival," Angelo suggested.

"Big hole," Broots commented.

Angelo frowned.

"Jarod found Annie's remains. We know she's dead," Broots rebut.

Angelo smiled.

"That big hole?" Parker intervened.

"Before he was assigned to your retrieval team, that was Lyle's job. If it was rival, it was assigned to Lyle. Stealing documents, stealing tech, stealing pets, taking out troublesome folk, getting the rivals all scared of the Center Corporation – the next Umbrella, hoo-wah – fixing alliances, keeping us out of trouble with the authorities, getting us what we needed, blowing things up, trying not to get blown up… that sort of thing." Angelo shrugged. "Sometimes we talked."

Parker made a face. She wasn't sure she was willing to believe all that.

"True story," Angelo assured her shortly, reminding her of Raines, because that was one of the things he had used to say.

"Say I believe you, and Annie's not dead," Parker posed. "Why do you _need_ to find her? Would you have us bring her back? Home. No more Big Bad Wolf."

Angelo frowned in annoyance. He didn't like when she referred to that corporation as the Big Bad Wolf.

"What then, E.T.?"

"Were Annie alive," Angelo stated. "Then I would most certainly hope that one day, perhaps she would be able to return home."

"One day!" Parker burst. Were Annie alive, she may not have so much time. She was not the youngest of them.

"Yes!" Angelo said calmly. "Let's not forget that the Big Bad Wolf has many teeth, and though we are many, and far and wide, they are likely more."

Parker did not like what he had to say, he could see, but she had to accept the logic.

"For all we know, she may be alive, she may live another 650 years," Angelo theorised.

"You suspect that she has the anomaly," Parker said suddenly, eyes narrowed.

"It is possible that the anomaly was inherited, yes," Angelo agreed.

"Raines possessed the anomaly, Angelo?" Sydney spoke finally.

Angelo glanced at him and nodded.

"He was a Pretender?" Sydney guessed.

Angelo made a face. "Nooo."

"He was a Healer, wasn't he?" Parker said. "You honestly believe that he was a Healer. That he Healed Faith, and Edna."

Angelo frowned. He was not asking her to believe, but could she not respect his beliefs?

Sydney blinked. "A long time ago, Blue Cove acquired a Healer. It did not last the week." He blinked again. "It cut- cut its heart out with a knife- and fixed it to the wall."

Parker stared at him. Broots gaped.

Sydney nodded, blinking quickly. He did not want to stare. Staring would not look good on his part.

"Cut its heart out and-" Broots made stabbing motions with his hand, "the wall?"

Sydney blinked. "That's right," he answered.

"It-"

"That's right!" Sydney repeated, getting annoyed now.

"But how could it-" Broots protested, "if- if it cut its heart out!"

Angelo nodded. "It may have," he said, afraid that Sydney would start shouting.

Broots stared at him.

"Were Annie alive, it would be possible that she would be a Healer," Parker said. "Which could be why she was kidnapped, and why these people wanted us to think that she was dead?"

"That is possible," Angelo agreed.

"A Healer," Parker said again. "Maybe… without knowing it… you thought that Annie could have Healed Lyle."

Angelo made a face. "No."

"No what?" Parker countered. "You said it yourself. He talked to you sometimes. You were almost like friends."

Angelo shook his head. He frowned. "Maybe Annie could Heal father?"

"Raines was not your father," Parker told him. "It may have seemed that he-"

"You are wrong," Angelo interrupted. "You are wrong. He was my father."

Parker sighed.

"He was my father," Angelo repeated. "He understood. He didn't try to make me Timmy again."

"UNDERSTOOD!" Parker screamed, startling Sydney and Broots. "HE KILLED TIMMY! ALL HE UNDERSTOOD WAS MAKING GOOD FOR HIMSELF!"

Angelo growled in the back of his throat, teeth sharpening rapidly, tattoo darkening across his hands and neck.

Sydney stepped back.

Parker fell silent.

Angelo eyed her dangerously, lifting her just the smallest amount off her feet and into the air, though he had not moved, before placing her back down. But he could do worse if he wanted to. Oh, he could do much worse.

And she understood that.

The teeth were put back, the tatts too, and Angelo stood staring at her, daring her to scream at him again.

"You did it!" she breathed, deathly quiet.

Angelo did not blink.

Then she knew he'd done it. He'd absorbed more energy. He hadn't wanted to be Timmy with Teeth anymore.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	13. Chapter 13

Angelo screamed. If Timmy came back, the teeth came back. Timmy was back. And Teeth wanted Parker. He smiled.

"Angelo?"

"Melanie, you know that's not my name," he corrected her gently. "You know my name is Tim."

"Sydney, Broots – out now!" Parker growled, drawing her gun.

The door slammed shut before they could reach it. Parker's gun shot out of her hands and stuck to the ceiling as though magnetised.

"Oh, I do like that!" Angelo enthused of his telekinetic abilities.

"Angelo?" a voice came from the other side of the door. Persephone's voice. "You don't have to do this," Persephone's voice told him, followed by a heavy thud as though Persephone had been thrown back from the door and slammed against the wall opposite.

Angelo arranged a smile onto his face once more. "_You don't have to do this, you don't have to do that_," he whined. "Well maybe I want to!"

"I'll do it!" Parker said quickly, meeting Angelo's eyes. "Whatever you want. I'll do it." She couldn't let her voice waver. "Just let Sydney and Broots go."

Angelo made a face, ummed and ahhed, his eyes travelling over her, considering her offer. Whatever he wanted? That was always nice.

Parker never took her eyes off his own.

Angelo tossed his head. What the hell – he'd give it a shot!

Broots was too frightened to even complain when the door he had been tugging on finally gave and he near concussed himself. He pulled the door open and disappeared.

Sydney, however, was not as gullible as Broots, though the sight of another person monstified clearly was not a happy one for him, and he could do little to counter the be-afraid vibes, he was still more worried about Parker than himself.

Parker almost ran at him and pushed him out the door herself. She did not want Teeth chowing down on him or frying his brain. Those were not easy things to fix even with the luxury of Healer assistance. Missing limbs were still missing limbs, and damaged brains were even worse than missing limbs. About the only way to kill Teethkind was to lop off their head, and then you knew they were dead.

Angelo frowned dramatically, spying Sydney. "Tuh-tah!" he cooed, waving his fingers.

Parker remained perfectly still. Teeth was very unstable at this moment.

"Why are we still standing and not moving?" Angelo growled, levelling his gaze with Sydney's. He smiled suddenly, manically. "Perhaps you desire to watch?"

Parker kept her mouth shut, feeling sick. _Sydney__ is going to leave now!_ She repeated the mantra in her head.

Sydney did not leave. "I don't believe you want to harm Miss Parker!" Sydney said, opening his mouth and speaking the words.

Angelo blinked. "No," he assured Sydney. "We're just two acquaintances catching up on old times! Nothing to worry about here, doc."

Sydney frowned, very confused. He wasn't trusting Angelo right now, but he wanted to.

Angelo huffed, dropping his shoulders. "Look, why don't you run along and check on Persephone. She doesn't look so good from where I'm standing."

Unconscious Persephone started to inch up the wall. Parker couldn't make herself turn around and look.

Sydney stared at Persephone for a moment, and then he hurried toward the door, to Persephone.

_He's going_, Parker thought, trying to relax a fraction, until she heard the gunshot, and just knew Sydney had done something stupid.

Persephone's neck made a nasty crack as she shot up the wall and her head slammed into the ceiling. She fell to the floor after that.

Parker unfroze, diving for Angelo, who had taken hold of her gun now and was pointing it at Sydney, in mind of shooting him back where he had shot him. She had heard the gun scraping as it had shot across the ceiling.

Angelo stumbled as she added her weight to his, knocking him off balance, and he pitched forward, and she held very tight, praying not to be thrown anywhere with too much velocity.

"Go!" she shouted to Sydney. "Tower Sweepers!"

Sydney didn't know what to do. He started to take a step in the direction of the door, but he didn't want to leave her.

Angelo turned swiftly and threw Parker off him.

Sydney was out the door by this time, and there was no way he was getting back inside.

Parker slid across the floor and stopped when she came to a wall. She wasn't sure it was a good thing she was conscious or not.

* * *

Parker was finally awake. Sydney was staring at her now. The Tower Sweepers had put the better part of twenty bullets in the thing and all it had seemed to do was piss it off. It had Healed amazingly fast, and none of them seemed to be able to get a shot at its head between the flying objects and flying themselves.

If Sydney thought about it, he was sure the thing had done more damage to them then they had to it. It had escaped though, a fact which did not please Sydney.

The nasty buggers could do that, a Tower Sweeper had told him. Heal themselves. If you didn't take the thing's head off, it was liable to keeping coming at you.

This had not improved Sydney's prospects of ever feeling as though he wanted to eat again after the Angelo Monster had bit near clean through one Tower Sweeper's neck.

Parker stared back at him. A doctor had told him that she was yet to speak a word. He was worried, more so than usual.

He had a sickening feeling that the Angelo Monster was going to disappear, never to be found again, save the occasional body that would be blamed on some wild beast.

_650 years._

Angelo's words abruptly repeated themselves in his head, and he wondered if that meant that Angelo would live that long as well, and if, were Raines his real father, that meant Raines could Heal himself and turn into a monster.

Parker moved her hand to cover his, though staring straight ahead. She wasn't staring at him after all.

"How did you live?" he asked softly.

* * *

What she had done was simply what Angelo had wanted, which had meant she got to live. She had gained a few scrapes, a few bumps, but she was alive. Parker had not spoken, though she had written as much down.

Sydney did not go home that night. He took out a room in a motel instead.

He no longer felt safe with his family.

* * *

Paulie stayed over with her the night, a team of Sweepers stationed outside.

The enemy was afoot and they were directed to eliminate. With the enemy, leave no room for stuff ups. Shoot first, tick the boxes later; pay off who you had to pay off.

* * *

Jarod rang in the night. Luckily, he had managed to obtain her cell phone number – presumably from Emily – and had rung on that, which had been set to vibrate, or else Paulie and a whole team of Sweepers would have come storming in to investigate.

He had heard, and he was demanding to know how she was, how she really was.

Parker did not feel like speaking. "I'm fine," she told him levelly. It was the same thing she had told herself.

_I'm fine. I really am fine._

"Jarod, as soon as he started putting himself back together – that thing was waiting!" She was almost shouting, though she knew she had to keep her voice down, and she had promised herself to keep calm.

Jarod was stumped now, because he had heard that an operative from a rival corporation had attacked her. Nobody had mentioned anything about it being Angelo, that it had been one of her childhood friends. "I don't understand," Jarod said, pained. "Are you saying that you know the attacker?"

Parker laughed. She couldn't help it. It was nasty, but she couldn't stop it. "Know? Sure. I know him. You know him too."

"Hang on! I know him?"

"Angelo can turn into a monster!" Parker said seriously. She stayed serious for two seconds, and then she began to cackle.

She remembered the time Jarod had made the serum, how Angelo had been getting better, and how she had smashed that vial, how it had been her fault, how bad she had felt, and how Angelo had given up his chance of ever getting better to save that little boy.

Jarod had read what she had written, what had been filed.

"I think he likes me," Parker mused conversationally. It had been bad for her, but she did not want to think how much more bad it must have been for Angelo, why, as a 10-year-old, he had felt the need to scramble his brains so thoroughly he couldn't even string a proper sentence together. "I've had worse guys," she continued. "He was actually kind of nice." She wanted to stop speaking, but it was so hard.

There was no way she would make Jarod understand, she realised, and her finger was on the button. She ended the call and fell back on the bed, plastered the pillow over her head.

Jarod would never understand. He would never forgive Angelo.

* * *

Peel named the baby Shalla.

Shalla was a healthy mousy-haired, brown-eyed baby. A baby like any other baby.

Until genetic analysis confirmed that she carried the anomaly in her DNA.

Just like that, she became different to all of the other babies.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	14. Chapter 14

**2008**

Indiana Alexis Parker was six. She was proud of several things in order: 1) the fact that she could spell her full name correctly both forwards and backwards, 2) her blue eyes just like her mother's and grandmother's, and 3) how she was not embarrassed when her mother called her 'baby', even in front of friends or grownups.

Indiana Alexis Parker was also top of her class. She was also slightly proud of this.

* * *

Indiana had two best friends, Scarlett and Avalon. Indiana's mother was hosting a garden party, and Indiana had invited her best friends, who now sat upstairs in Indiana's room. Avalon's year older sister, River, sat apart from the three friends, and was ignored by the group.

* * *

Paulie Broots sipped a glass of white wine, her stepdaughter, Debbie, drinking Coke. If Paulie was having wine, she was having anything that was not wine. Debbie took said Coke and exited the kitchen, driven away by Paulie's incessant girl talk.

Glancing around the lounge room, she settled down on the sofa and continued sipping her Coke. Spying a photograph on the mantle, she stood up and moved closer to investigate, humming _99 Red Balloons_. She would much rather have been spending her time with her best friend Thora 'Nora'/'Elvira' Connor.

Thora was part Goth, part witch, part environmentalist, all parts of which Debbie's parents disliked. The woman was a corrupting influence, apparently, as well as four years her senior.

Debbie picked up the frame and examined the photograph.

* * *

"Who is this?" Debbie asked, walking back into the kitchen.

Parker glanced at her and then the frame. Debbie extended the object to her and she frowned down at the photograph.

Paulie stepped closer to get a look at the photo as well.

"That is Lyle," Parker said finally, lifting her gaze to Debbie's face.

Debbie reached to take the frame back, but Parker did not offer it. Debbie dropped her arm to her side, and noticed the distasteful look on Paulie's face. "Your brother, right," she said, recalling a six-year-old conversation.

Parker frowned.

Debbie walked to the fridge to refill her glass and left the room again, the two women's eyes on her back.

* * *

Debbie flopped down on the sofa, glass of Coke in her hand that she didn't even want to drink. She suddenly wanted to smash it, and quickly placed it down on the low table in front of her so that it was out of her hands and hopefully such thoughts would leave her head also.

"Are you alright?" Sydney's calming voice drifted into the room.

Debbie looked up.

Sydney stood in the doorway, watching her.

She rearranged her expression into one of pleasantness, but it didn't matter, Sydney had already seen. "Yeah," she lied. "I will be." She attempted a smile. It worked, so she kept it. "Ex," she explained with a roll of the eyes.

Sydney nodded from the door.

"She's in the kitchen," Debbie told him, and watched him nod again and walk away.

* * *

Debbie fingered the silver comet pin she liked to wear sometimes with the initials ER engraved into the back, tears slowly forming in her eyes. She did not try to stop them. She didn't even care who saw them.

"Are you going to cry?" a little boy asked. He might have been eight.

"Cry or throw up," Debbie confirmed. She looked at the boy. He had red hair and blue eyes.

The boy was frowning right now. "I don't know much first-aid," he admitted. "But I could give you a hug."

Debbie sniffed and nodded. "I would like that," she said quietly.

The boy walked over to the sofa and stopped in front of her and put his arms around her.

"I'm Debbie," Debbie said after some time.

"Reagan," the boy reciprocated.

Debbie sniffed. It was a nice name, she thought.

* * *

Debbie returned to the kitchen, but Parker assured her that no help was needed, so it was back off to the lounge room.

Reagan was standing with another girl when she came back into the room. She walked up to him and leant down to speak quietly in his ear. "Who is this?"

"River," Reagan replied.

River glanced at Debbie.

"Hello, River," Debbie said. "Are you a friend of Indiana?"

"River isn't Indiana's friend," Reagan said. "She's Avalon's sister. Avalon is Indiana's friend."

Debbie nodded.

"I'll be your friend," Reagan said to River, who nodded.

Debbie smiled. That was a nice thing to say. She still wasn't sure who Reagan was, though she thought it would sound rude to ask.

"Sister doesn't usually keep photographs of brother," Reagan said suddenly. "I suppose she kept it because it was part of mother and father's wedding album."

Debbie looked at him. "Parker is your sister?" she asked, realising that he must be… Jonathan… Wasn't his name Jonathan?

Reagan nodded. "Father had wanted to name me Jonathan, but then when he saw me he decided that I couldn't be Jonathan, I didn't look like a Jonathan at all. Father was upset. His own father had been a Jonathan. He told brother to fix it, and brother suggested that I be named Reagan."

Debbie frowned. _A little disturbing._

"Both our names start with the letter R," Reagan said to River, and smiled.

River smiled too.

"But Parker calls you Jonathan," Debbie said.

Reagan nodded. "I know that she means me, and I don't want to upset her, so I let her."

Debbie frowned.

"Is that a bad thing?" Reagan asked.

"No," Debbie assured him. "But I think you should tell her your proper name. She wouldn't want to call you by a name that wasn't your own, I am sure."

Reagan considered this. "Can I tell her next year?"

Debbie made a face.

Reagan blinked. He was guessing that was a _no_. "I'm scared," he said.

"There's nothing to be scared about," Debbie reassured him. "You just go up to her and tell her you have something you want to tell her, and then you tell her."

Reagan put his hands over his face, which caused River to giggle. "I'm not here."

"Jonathan?" Parker called from the hallway, stepping into the room.

Debbie stepped closer to him and took one of his hands. He had dropped them from his face.

"Why didn't you come into the kitchen to tell me you had arrived?" Parker asked. "Would you like a drink?"

Reagan frowned. "I have to tell you something," he blurted suddenly. "My name's not actually Jonathan because it's actually Reagan."

Parker frowned. He had said that all very fast.

Reagan looked at the carpet. "My name is Reagan," he said at a normal pace.

Parker stared, confused.

Reagan blinked, still eyeing the carpet. Why wasn't she speaking?

Debbie sighed and smiled. "What Reagan is trying to say is that he is Jonathan," she said, smiling too much. It was a little silly.

Parker frowned. "What?"

Reagan lifted his chin quickly and nodded.

"Is Reagan a nickname?" Parker asked, pronouncing the _ee_ as an _ay_ though neither Reagan nor Debbie had done so.

"Reagan is his name," Debbie answered. "His, ah, father decided that he couldn't be Jonathan because, ah-"

Reagan patted his hair.

"Because of the hair," Debbie explained. "So, now he's Reagan. Well, actually, he was always Reagan." She quickly diverted her eyes to the wall behind Parker.

Parker laughed. Reagan, however, appeared serious. She stopped laughing. "I didn't know that."

"That's okay!" Reagan piped up. He dashed over to her and hugged her.

Parker met Debbie's eyes with a worried expression. Debbie grimaced.

* * *

River sighed heavily behind Debbie, causing her hair to brush against her ear. She frowned, realising that River wasn't quite that high, and saw that River wasn't even standing behind her. She was sitting in an armchair across the room.

"River and I will have a glass of water," Reagan said to Parker, who nodded, glancing at the little girl she assumed must be River, before exiting the room for the kitchen.

Reagan turned back to Debbie and rolled his eyes.

Debbie frowned. That wasn't a nice thing to do.

"Phew!" Reagan sighed, walking up to her.

Debbie smiled. "I think I'll go for a walk," she said to him, walking out of the room. He had seemed like an okay kid before, but she just wasn't sure now.

* * *

Debbie walked outside and walked around the house once before coming back inside.

She had just wanted to give Reagan a little time without her. She wasn't sure it was a good idea being so friendly with him anymore. Still, he hadn't come outside looking for her.

She sighed. Perhaps she was just over-reacting. She would talk to Thora later, she decided. Thora was a nurse, though she was taking time off, plus, she liked children.

* * *

Debbie sipped a glass of red wine, walking among the partygoers, when she spotted a slim man and made her way to his side, though looking the other way when she stopped and stood beside him.

Cox frowned, noticing the wine.

"I am going to put my hands around her neck if I don't have it," Debbie said of her stepmother, knowing without looking that his attention will have gone to her choice of drink.

Cox sighed. "Hello, Reagan," he said as the boy approached.

Debbie pretended to be looking elsewhere.

"Hello," Reagan greeted. "I'm kind of keeping away from Indiana."

"Why is that?" Cox asked.

"I just am, I guess," Reagan replied.

"Reagan Parker!" Indiana announced impressively, strolling over. Scarlett and Avalon walked beside her, and River followed behind. "River told us how you were making such great friends!" she declared, her voice taking on an accusing note.

Reagan shook his head. So what?

Indiana leapt forward and pushed him backward. "Leave her alone you psychopath!" she screamed, kicking him.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Cox said, stepping in.

Indiana shot him one nasty glare before stalking away; Scarlett, Avalon and River with her.

Reagan picked himself up off the ground quickly, ignoring Cox's I'm-a-doctor looks. "I'm alright," he told Cox instead, looking everywhere else but at where the four girls had just disappeared. "I gotta go," he said suddenly, and hurried away.

Cox shook his head.

"I think I need more wine," Debbie told him.

Cox gave her such a strange look, as though he didn't know her at all.

She walked away to find where the wine was.

* * *

"Hey, you girls," Debbie said, walking over to where the four girls were sitting on a spot of grass.

Indiana glared at her.

"Can I sit here?" Debbie asked, brushing the back of her shiny evening dress.

Indiana looked at her dress. Debbie could tell Indiana liked it. "Okay," she said stiffly.

Debbie lowered herself to the grass, sitting down between two girls who had shuffled closer to make room for her. "So what was that about earlier?" she asked Indiana.

"Everyone knows Reagan Parker is a lunatic!" Indiana informed her.

"Everyone!" the two girls who were not River echoed.

Debbie frowned. "I didn't know," she told Indiana.

"Well he is," Indiana assured her, widening her eyes.

"That doesn't warrant pushing him over and kicking him," Debbie explained.

Indiana laughed. "You think I'm just gonna let him take advantage of Avalon's sister!" she stormed.

Debbie crossed her arms. "Reagan is a child, Indiana, as are you," she told the younger girl firmly. "Neither of you are old enough to understand what it means when a person takes advantage of another person. Therefore, I would like you to stop saying such things, and I do not want to see you pushing anyone over again. Reagan or otherwise."

Indiana glared. "I'll stay away from him if he stays away from River!" she said.

Debbie sighed.

"What are you girls whispering about?" Reagan asked, walking up to them.

"Piss off!" Indiana screamed loudly, jumping to her feet.

"Hit him, Indiana!" Scarlett or Avalon cried.

Debbie struggled to regain her feet in her evening dress, by which time Indiana and Reagan were pushing and scratching and hitting.

"JONATHAN!" Parker shouted, taking hold of the boy.

Debbie saw that Sam was holding Indiana fast.

"She started it!" Reagan yelled back just as loudly, struggling in Parker's hold.

"You liar!" Indiana screamed.

"Quiet, Indiana!" Parker scolded her daughter. She turned and dragged Reagan inside with her.

"Are you gonna stop squirming and hollering if I let go of you?" Sam asked Indiana.

Indiana glared. "Fine!" she growled. He was gone now anyway.

"Good." Sam loosened his hold on her, and finally let her go completely.

She stomped back over to where her friends were sitting and thumped herself down on the grass.

* * *

"What the hell was that?" Parker shouted, pushing Reagan away from her in disgust.

"She started it!" Reagan repeated stubbornly, crossing his arms.

Debbie walked in to see Parker standing there, her chest heaving, and a deadly glare on her face. Whereas Indiana's hair had been messed up, Reagan had collected several scratches and bruises.

Debbie shook her head in disappointment. She had expected more of Reagan.

* * *

Debbie stomped off and up the stairs to the guestroom where she sat down on the bed and pretended she couldn't hear the party. She was just going to wait until she calmed down or someone came up and asked her to come down.

She woke, her head hurting, and realised that she must have fallen asleep. She sat up and listened hard.

The party was clearly over. A strange sort of disappointment filled her, and she got to her feet without really thinking about it much and walked down the hallway and staircase.

* * *

Someone was crying. She could hear them from the hall, the sound poorly disguised by a quietly broadcasting television set.

She figured it was late because she recognised the tune for _The Late Show with David Letterman_.

What she really wanted to do was phone her dad or Thora or Cox and leave Parker's house. What she really wanted to do was curl up in bed and fall straight back to sleep. But someone was still crying, and she didn't like the sound of crying.

She walked to the lounge room door and looked inside.

* * *

She could tell by the hair that the person who was crying was Reagan, though it struck her as odd that he had stayed. She had thought he would have gone back to wherever it usually was he lived.

He was sitting on the carpet in front of the sofa and crying.

Against her better judgement, Debbie took a preparatory breath, and stepped into the room. She was going to find out what was going on and then she was going to leave.

Reagan did not look away from the television screen, though she was sure that had seen her by now.

"Reagan?" she said firmly.

Reagan's sobbing hitched and finally halted, and Debbie watched him carefully as he turned his head. He stared at her with empty eyes. He stared and Debbie saw how he had been cut, how the blood raced in beads to huddle in the carpet.

She screamed.

* * *

Parker could not sit down. No matter what Sydney or Debbie did, she would not sit down. She had taken Indiana back upstairs to bed, but she would not sit down. Instead she walked back and forth through the house, back and forth, though careful not to disturb Indiana, who was sleeping by now.

Debbie sat at the kitchen table, head still full of the sound of sirens. The ambulance had taken Reagan to hospital, and for some reason Parker had called them instead of the Center.

Sydney sat with Debbie, not saying anything. Then Debbie stood and decided to do something to clean up the blood from the carpet.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	15. Chapter 15

Indiana went with her mom to visit Reagan in the hospital. Her mom would have had to have gone alone otherwise, and she had not wanted that. Her mom cared about Reagan, she knew, even when she yelled at him, or when he carved on himself with a kitchen knife.

Indiana was not stupid. She knew what he had done. The only thing she didn't know was why. And it scared her to think about it.

* * *

Reagan was awake when they visited. He sat and stared.

Indiana got scared when she looked at him. It was more than just the stitched-up cuts. It was the way he was so still, as though practising for death. And she could see where she had scratched him or hit him and bruises had come up from when they had fought, and it made her feel somehow bad, though she knew it hadn't been her who had cut on him.

He was really sick, Sydney had told her back at the house before they had left.

Her mom had been too disappointed to speak, she could tell, though she had not known why, and Sydney had thought that something needed to be said.

Sydney had explained to her about what a sociopath was. He said that Reagan had cut himself to make her mom feel bad, because she had yelled at him, she had been bad to him, whether she had had good reason to do so or not.

Indiana had been really scared when he had said this, but she had been brave and listened anyway. Now she was standing in this room with Reagan, and she was scared again.

She turned to look for her mom and realised that she had gone. She was outside.

Indiana could see her crying, though she had gone outside because she hadn't wanted Indiana to see. A man who was probably a nurse had stopped and put his arms around her mom and her mom hadn't told him not to. She wanted to leave the room so badly, but she didn't want her mom to know she had come out and seen her crying, so she had to stay.

"Why'd you cut yourself?" she asked in her best voice, forcibly propelling herself in the direction of the bed and sick Reagan, even as she wanted to press herself against the farthest wall and disappear inside.

Reagan said nothing, though he had heard what she had asked and was thinking about it.

Thinking how he could lie, Indiana thought.

"Mickey Mouse is on," he said blankly, and she stupidly turned and stared at the television just to see if he was lying. He could have hurt her when she was looking away, though he didn't, and Mickey Mouse was on.

"Why'd you do it?" she asked again, meeting his eyes.

He shrugged, and winced.

It must have hurt, she thought. "I hoped you'd die," she admitted. "I knew what you'd done, and when mom took me up to bed and I was walking in the dark in the hall, I hoped you'd die because you made her want to cry. But she stored it all up, and you didn't die. Now she's crying. And I have to stay in here with you because I can't go out there!" She couldn't keep herself from glaring hatefully. She hated him.

"I won't ever talk to River again if you don't want me to," Reagan said.

"Ever?" she growled.

"Ever!" he promised. "I won't even look at her, or think about her. Not ever."

Indiana didn't believe him. She knew he knew that she didn't. "I hate you," she told him. Mostly, she hated how he made her hate him. "And I don't believe you."

* * *

Reagan was going to be two years ahead of her. He was dressed in his school uniform, ready for school. He had never been before. He was going to go three days a week.

Indiana dreaded the whole idea, and when she thought about it, she thought that she wouldn't be able to eat her snack at playlunch or anything at lunch because she would feel so uncertain she just wouldn't.

A Sweeper named Calum drove Reagan to and from school. Indiana was glad for that at least, he would not be going in the car with her mom or her, but she would still have to see him at school.

Scarlett and Avalon weren't happy either, though Indiana told them that her mom had told Reagan that he had to stay away from River, so they didn't have to always be watching the girl.

She found out that Reagan was good at Math and that he hated Sport, and sometimes he would just stop listening to the teacher he hated it so much. These were all things Scarlett told her because she knew a girl in Reagan's grade.

Reagan didn't make friends, and nobody wanted to be his friend so badly that they had put in any serious effort or even any at all.

Indiana had heard that he hummed classical music at recess and did his Math homework.

* * *

Shalla eyed the Sweeper. His name was Michael and Michael was always getting himself needing to be Healed. Michael was different from regular branch Sweepers. He was a Tower Sweeper, and the Tower was consult to the High Chairman.

Michael was also one of the Sweepers she did not dislike.

He always had a 'thanks' for her, even if he didn't speak the words and it was just in his eyes.

Shalla knew several people, the first of which was her mother, Ocee, and Ocee was an Empath. Shalla loved her mother.

Shalla's doctor was a Tower employee named Peel. He had a funny way of talking. (Ocee did not like Peel.) Shalla's best friend was another Healer named Jeanne, though Jeanne was almost twenty years older than herself.

Shalla had met the Chairman, who was a woman, and she had met Blue, who felt like nothing at all. To this list, could be added several Sweepers and Tower Sweepers, Tower Healers, Tower Empaths and Empath triumvirates, and, of course, her patients.

Shalla also had two clones, named Imo and Ariel.

* * *

"Shalla, this is William Raines."

Shalla stared at the man. He was sleeping. He had been sleeping for a long time. It was called a medically induced coma, Shalla knew. "Two names!" she said, turning back to Peel with a smile. She did not want to look at the man for too long.

Peel frowned.

He would never smile. In all the time that Shalla had known him she could not remember him smiling once.

"Shalla, do you know why we made Imo and Ariel?" Peel asked.

Shalla shook her head. She did not.

"Well, Shalla: Shalla, Imo and Ariel make three," Peel explained.

Shalla made a face. She could count.

"Have you ever heard of such a thing?"

Shalla still did not understand what he was trying to say.

"A triumvirate, Shalla," Peel prompted.

Shalla stared. Healers weren't… Empaths. But Imo and Ariel were her clones. Three Healers, each with identical genetic make up…

Peel smiled. There, she understood now.

* * *

Paulie stared.

Parker frowned. Paulie was not speaking and she felt suddenly ill. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to tell the woman that they were sisters, twins in fact.

"Oh my God!" Paulie laughed. "Oh my God! You feel it too!"

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	16. Chapter 16

Parker glanced at Persephone. Persephone was Reagan's mentor and she was Reagan's sister. Persephone winced.

The words covered almost half of the vehicle, scratched into the paintwork. The same word, repeated over and over: _LIES_.

Persephone let her breath out. The boy did not make it easy on himself.

* * *

Reagan spent the entire time staring elsewhere. Not once did he so much as attempt to make eye contact with the principal. He ignored anything that he said, and finally the principal could take no more and suspended him for one month.

As they walked, Persephone and Parker decided that Persephone would drive Reagan back to the Center. They were going to the same place either way. He lived there and she worked there.

They had only stepped out of the school building when Reagan started to laugh.

Parker forced herself not to stop walking. She had a fair idea what he found so laughable. What was one month really? Four weeks. Which made twelve days, with three days a week. It was a joke to him!

* * *

Persephone pulled out of the parking lot after Parker.

Reagan leant his head on the dashboard and cried.

Persephone watched the road. What else was there for her to do?

* * *

"I saw your car in the parking lot," Indiana mentioned, watching cartoons on the television.

"Jonathan's been suspended," her mom finally said.

Indiana turned to look at her, but her mom did not expound on this brief mention, instead pulling herself away from the children's programmes and walking out of the room.

* * *

Debbie emptied the entire contents of her handbag onto her mattress, but she still could not find ER's pin.

She sorted through her washing basket and her freshly laundered clothes and it was not there either. She even checked her car, finally plopping down on the backseat and deciding that she must have lost it at Parker's.

* * *

"Damn it!" Debbie huffed, coming inside.

Cox frowned.

"I lost my favourite pin," Debbie explained.

He shrugged.

"I think I left it at Parker's."

He sighed.

Debbie shot him a glare. He didn't understand the sentimental value it held. It was very special to her.

Cox crossed his arms. "I'm sure it'll turn up sooner or later," he told her. "With any luck, you'll simply have misplaced it."

Standing in front of him now, Debbie glared.

Cox smiled. She was only pretending to be angry at him, he knew.

* * *

Fulton leant back against an empty gurney and sighed.

It was odd to be thinking about someone after six years of not thinking about them.

She still worked Autopsy, she reflected, though she no longer complained, a fact that was suddenly troublesome. Why was that, she wondered.

* * *

Scarlett laughed. She knew exactly why Reagan had been suspended.

Indiana raised her eyebrows. Well, was she going to share or not?

Scarlett hurried over to her friends and whispered in their ears.

Avalon covered her mouth with a hand. "He did not!"

Scarlett nodded. He had.

Avalon shook her head. Some people amazed her. And this was not the good sort of amazement.

Indiana remained quiet.

* * *

As she entered the laboratory, Shalla noticed that Imo and Ariel had already arrived and were waiting. Several Sweepers, led by a Tower Sweeper stood guard. A group of lab techs were also present.

Blue stood apart from the others, staring into space.

Shalla had heard that his brain was co-inhabited by several biomechanical colonies functioning on a nano level which allowed him to interface directly with a computer network, though she could not recall ever having been told of his expression.

Peel arrived soon after, two Empath triumvirates at his heels.

Shalla's stomach felt funny suddenly, and she glanced at Blue, who felt like nothing and was strangely comforting at this moment.

* * *

Shalla screamed.

It was too much!

She needed to tell Peel to stop, but she hadn't the words. The pain had taken away her words.

Imo and Ariel's pain joined with her own.

She thought for a moment that she had stopped screaming, though that was highly doubtful, she had simply stopped hearing, or knowing.

A curious feeling overtook her, stripping the pain away. There was a vague feeling as if someone were playing Dot-to-dot with her neural pathways.

It was strange, because she thought she felt a little like she imagined an animal would feel as it was shedding an old skin for a shiny new one. But now there were new awarenesses, shared awarenesses. She could no longer distinguish what was hers and what was Imo's or Ariel's. The processing of external stimulus was all jumbled up. She was even starting to fell as though her thoughts were slipping away from her, as though they were becoming less and less her own.

There was a slicing feeling, and everything was so clear abruptly. She knew that she was changed, that they were all changed, and that there was a part of her that was also a part of Imo and Ariel, but somehow Shalla was still Shalla. It was just… different.

* * *

Shalla realised that she was shivering uncontrollably. She could see that Imo and Ariel were shivering also. And then she stopped. She did not know why at first.

Peel was speaking now.

The words were coming out of his mouth and though she was not strictly paying attention, she was listening and she understood what he was saying. It was an odd sensation. As though someone else was doing the work for her and simply depositing the finished product there in her head. She wondered if Imo or Ariel were listening and were somehow relaying their understanding between the three of them.

But everything was a little different now. She felt something new from every person in the room, except for Blue. Blue felt the same as always.

_Isn't he funny?_ she thought abruptly, except it wasn't a thought exactly, it was more of a feeling, or a vibe. And it wasn't her own, it wasn't Shalla Only's. It had been surprisingly easy for her to correctly interpret the feeling thing, Shalla Only realised, quickly deciding that the feeling was Ariel Only's, though she did not know how she had.

It was only much later that Shalla Only realised that it had been Blue, and that Blue did feel like something after all.

* * *

Peel assigned Shalla, Imo and Ariel the title First – the first Healer Triumvirate – and the testing began. They would, of course, be _wonderful_!

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	17. Chapter 17

Indiana was a sailor in her school play. Scarlett was also a sailor, though Avalon was not. Avalon had been grumpy about this, because she was a starfish, and starfish just weren't cool. She'd had her hair crimped for the role, and Indiana thought that it looked really pretty, though she hadn't said so. Avalon wouldn't have believed her anyway.

Indiana's mom sat in the crowd of plastic chairs and watched.

The play was not long, and it was only Indiana's grade. Later, Indiana stood with her mom and sipped cordial.

She noticed that Charity sat by herself. She had starred as an enchanted boulder and was dressed in all black. Apparently her mom and dad had not been able to make it. Charity had a sister in a grade above her, and a brother in a grade below her, Indiana recalled.

"No wonder her mom didn't come," Scarlett said. "I mean, an enchanted boulder!"

Indiana glanced around at the other girl.

"I happen to like boulders!" Avalon exclaimed.

Scarlett laughed. Indiana laughed along with her. What self-respecting parent wanted to have to spoil the family album with half a dozen photographs of a misshapen boulder?

"I heard her dad is dead," Avalon defended.

"So?" Scarlett countered. "Indiana doesn't even have a dad!"

Indiana suddenly felt sick in her stomach, because Scarlett was right. She didn't have a dad.

"Scar!" Avalon warned.

Indiana ran. She didn't even know why she was running, or where she was running. She finally stopped running when her throat and chest hurt too much. She plonked herself on the ground and cried. Though it had never seemed to matter before, she suddenly realised how she had never ever asked about her father, how she didn't even know his name, and had never been shown photographs. She didn't even know why it mattered. Avalon's dad was in prison, everyone knew that, and it seemed much better to not have a dad than to have a dad who was in prison.

* * *

Indiana was in her bedroom, standing very still. When she had finally finished crying and rejoined her grade out in the yard, her mom had been on her cell phone, talking with Sam. She hadn't ever realised that Indiana had gone.

So she was standing in the middle of her room, listening to one of her The Divinyls's CDs, and staring at the photograph she had found in the trash.

It was a photo of Thomas and another man. Strictly speaking, she was not supposed to know about Thomas, but she had heard her mom talking to him in a prayer and had demanded to know who he was.

Thomas had died, she knew. She knew too that he could not possibly be her father.

The same could not be said of the other man. She had to know who he was.

* * *

"Who is this man?" Indiana asked her mom, walking to her side so that she could show her the photograph.

Her mom sighed and turned to glance a moment at the photograph. She frowned. "Indiana!" she scolded, but the rest got stuck in her throat.

Indiana blinked. "Who is he?" she persisted.

Her mom pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead as though suddenly having developed a headache. "No one," she replied, shaking her head. "He's no one anymore."

"I want to know his name!" Indiana complained.

Her mom rubbed her forehead with her hand. "Lyle. His name is- was Lyle."

"Your brother?" Indiana said unbelievingly.

"My- my brother," her mom confirmed.

"Why'd you try to throw it out?" Indiana questioned, staring at her.

Her mom laughed shortly.

"He doesn't look like your brother!" Indiana said.

Her mom sighed, closing her eyes.

"Is he my dad?" Indiana asked, her voice quietening.

Her mom choked.

"Is he?" Indiana demanded.

Her mom did something very strange and very scary then. She screamed.

* * *

"Dr. Jones, I am little bit terrified!" a boy declared, stepping into view. He was probably 15. His eyes were blue and his hair was either black or dark brown.

Indiana was so shocked by his sudden appearance that she forgot all about being scared. Her mom had left the room, and she stood, staring at the boy.

"And off she goes!" the boy commented, clapping his hands. "Yes, yes, certainly individual." The boy flashed a winning smile, though realising that this approach was failing miserably, he dropped the smile. "I can do cabaret!" he enthused, trying out a little tap dance routine.

"What are you doing in my mom's house?" Indiana asked blatantly.

The boy ran a hand over his hair. "Yeah-ah!" He sighed. "Ah, there was a slight contron crystal malfunction as we were passing through the Lever System and the mainframe seems to have inadvertently tele… port… ed…" He frowned. "Yeah. That's not working, is it?"

"No," Indiana confirmed.

"Well, you know, I actually sell life insurance. What I do is, see, I go around to people's houses and knock on their doors… and the door was open…"

Indiana shook her head. She still didn't believe him.

"Would you believe me if I told you my name was Bobby… and I'm from Nebraska." He shivered. "Speaking of which, where are we?"

"Delaware," Indiana told him with a funny look.

"I'm sorry, Dela where?"

"Delaware!" she repeated in annoyance.

Bobby frowned. "That's an actual name, isn't it?"

"Yes!"

Bobby smacked himself in the head with his hands.

"You're weird, you know that!" Indiana told him.

Bobby nodded. "I know." His eyes shifted to the door for a moment before returning to Indiana.

Indiana made a face. Bobby was now trying to straighten his hair. "About that control crystal malfunction," she started. "You weren't inadvertently teleported from an asylum, were you?"

Bobby stared at her. He shook his head abruptly, widening his eyes. "No."

Indiana put an extra step between them for good measure.

"This is highly unusual," Bobby was saying to himself in a serious voice, waving his hands up and down.

He stared at the ceiling for a moment.

"Dead?" he proposed incredulously. The ceiling must have been serious, because a moment later, Bobby was frowning concertedly, and then he pinched himself. "Okay, that is nasty!" he declared. At least if he was dead, he would have thought he wouldn't be able feel, for instance, when he pinched himself.

Indiana put her hands over her eyes. Perhaps if she just told herself he wasn't there he would disappear. She removed her hands, and stared. Shit, where had he gotten to?

* * *

"Paulie is my sister," her mom finished, shutting her laptop once the DSA was ended. She had come back into the lounge room to explain the Lyle thing.

"Okay," Indiana agreed. She could not seem to motivate herself to say any more. Instead, she found herself thinking about how much her mom looked like her grandmother.

Her mom pulled her close and hugged her.

Lyle had never really been her brother, but yet another lie in an ever increasing list.

* * *

There was a room in her head. It was strange, Indiana knew, but there was a room in her head. She was sitting in a chair in a classroom and a teacher was talking, but she was sitting in another chair in another room at the same time. There was a room in her head.

There was a door in her room.

At first the room in her head was just like the room in her school, except that she was the only person in this room, and then she found that just by thinking it, she could change her room.

Except for the door.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	18. Chapter 18

Indiana was sitting in class when she realised that Bobby was not real. He was a made up boy. He was just in her head. And she had invited him in that door. Somehow.

The door seemed a lot scarier after that.

* * *

Bobby sat on the carpet beside her chair and hummed _99 Red Balloons_.

Indiana was sure she hadn't invited him this time, but she couldn't seem to make him go away no matter how hard she concentrated.

With a heavy sigh, Bobby stood. "Look," he said suddenly. "This is painful. But it doesn't have to be."

Indiana ignored him, her eyes fixed on the teacher. She was trying to listen, couldn't he see that?

Bobby huffed.

"What?" Indiana finally hissed, glaring at him.

Bobby shrugged. What?

* * *

Indiana frowned, bent over an exercise book, a pencil clutched in her hand as she worked on a math problem. She did not notice Sydney watching her because she was listening to Bobby explaining something. He might have been bad at everything else, but what he said about math seemed to make some sense.

"Indiana," Sydney finally greeted, crossing the lounge to meet her.

Indiana looked up from her math homework. "Dr. Green," she said.

Sydney nodded.

Indiana's mom had had to stay late, so Indiana got to visit where she worked. She was currently sitting in the lounge joining onto Tech Space.

Indiana noticed how Bobby dropped his eyes to the carpet instead of look at Sydney.

"What is that you're doing?" Sydney asked.

"Math problem," Indiana told him, showing him her exercise book.

Sydney nodded again.

Indiana snapped the book shut, indicating that she had finished, though she had not in fact.

"How is school?" Sydney asked.

"Good," Indiana replied her usual response to such questions. It was strange the way Bobby was behaving just because of Sydney. "Sydney," she said. "There's this boy I know and I really want to talk to him, but I don't know what to say."

Sydney considered her dilemma for a long moment, a frown coming to his face. "You can say anything, Indiana," he finally said.

Indiana made face. That hadn't helped at all.

Bobby, still staring at the carpet, put his hands over his face.

"Perhaps, if you had a way of knowing what his interests were, you could talk to him about something he was interested in," Sydney suggested.

"I'm not here," Bobby mumbled from behind his fingers.

"Are you sure?" Indiana asked, a little whine creeping into her voice.

"Yes," Sydney confirmed with a nod.

Indiana thought this over. "Thank you," she said.

Sydney smiled. "Not at all, Indiana."

Indiana watched Sydney walk away.

She frowned, suddenly noticing that Bobby was no longer standing with his face in his hands, but instead singing along to a pop song playing over the radio. She widened her eyes. Backwards robot dancing! The boy was traumatised!

* * *

Indiana watched Bobby playing hopscotch on his own.

She didn't know what he wanted, but whatever it was, she wasn't sure she would be able to help him.

* * *

Indiana had invited Scarlett and Avalon over. It was Saturday and she had decided to watch an entire season of _Ghost Whisperer_, which she had talked her mother into buying for her on Friday.

It was possible the reason she was seeing Bobby was because she was supposed to help him somehow so that he could finally rest in peace. (She had also begged her mother to buy her the first season of _Medium_, she was really interested in that kind of stuff.)

"Look, Dr. Jones…"

Indiana diverted her attention from the television screen momentarily to glance at Bobby, who had been lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

Bobby sighed and sat up. "I'm still not sure I should be the one to- to tell you this, but it has to be known- to be said, it has to be said." He sighed again. "The thing is, you're an Empath. And I guess, I'm – more or less – kind of like, ah, a spirit gui-" He held his head abruptly.

Indiana shook her head. She didn't understand anything he had said. He had to explain it to her.

Bobby shifted abruptly, as though, instead of a real boy, he were an image of a real boy, being projected as a holographic image might, and reception had fallen out.

Indiana had just decided what she was going to ask, when he disappeared. She blinked. "Where did you go?"

Scarlett looked at her distractedly. "What?"

Indiana frowned. "Nothing."

* * *

Shalla, Imo and Ariel stood together. Peel nodded. They were now allowed to Heal William Raines.

Though young, he was confident that now that they were a triumvirate, they would be successful.

* * *

_I'm an Empath_, Indiana thought, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. _I'm an Empath._ But what exactly was an Empath? And why was she one?

She sighed. It just had to have something to do with her dad, she knew it. And then she had an idea. What if she asked Bobby? Would he know anything? But Bobby had abandoned her.

She frowned. It couldn't hurt to try, she supposed. She closed her eyes on her bedroom and opened them in the room in her head, taking a seat to wait. "Bobby," she said to no one. "I need to talk to you now."

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	19. Chapter 19

Indiana blinked.

Avalon and she were sleeping over at Scarlett's, and they were watching television right now, though instead of paying attention, Indiana was thinking about Paulie being her aunt, and Reagan not being her cousin, because if Lyle wasn't her mother's brother, then Reagan and she weren't related at all.

Officially, Reagan was her mother's brother and therefore her uncle, yes, but she knew that he was also Lyle's son unofficially, which would have made him her cousin had Lyle been her mother's brother, which it had turned out, he wasn't. Though, then there was something wrong with that, because why had her fake uncle and her step-grandmother had a child when she had supposed to have been married to her grandfather?

The whole thing was too confusing to think about, so she decided that she would just watch the stupid television, no matter how boring it was. There were some things, she conceded, she would just have to wait to grow up to be allowed to be told, and blinked.

Why was there a picture of Bobby on the television?

Indiana squeezed her eyes shut. She really could have done without knowing that her 'spirit guide' was actually just another lunatic. Hadn't she filled her quota of lunatics she knew, damn it!

* * *

Scarlett's mom took the girls out for dinner at McDonald's. As they were driving over there in Scarlett's mom's SUV, Indiana imagined asking her own mom about the thing that had really been troubling her.

"Mom, what's an Empath?" Indiana would ask her cell phone, determined to keep her voice as casual as possible.

"An Empath?" her mom would come back. "Where did you hear that?"

"Um, well, my deranged spirit guide actually told me that that was what I was," she would explain, with the reasoning that a little truth couldn't hurt at this point, "but I don't know what that is."

"Spirit guide? What spirit guide? What are you saying?"

Indiana would roll her eyes. "His name is Bobby. I think he might be some sort of mad axe-murderer. Lucky me, I know. But that's what he reckons. That I'm an Empath."

"We need to talk about this," her mom would declare. "In person."

But that would never happen.

* * *

The conversation continued. "He was on the television, mom," she explained over her milkshake.

Her mom stared at her strangely. "Bobby? Bobby was on the television?"

"Yes," Indiana huffed. "Scarlett has this weird obsession with true crime shows."

"Bobby Bowman?"

Indiana made a face. "Please tell me you weren't watching the exact same thing?" she whined.

Her mom crossed her arms. "No, I was not watching the exact same thing," she said, though Indiana knew that she _had_ been watching the exact same thing so that she would have something to talk about with a man she liked.

A boy stopped by the table.

Indiana made a face, crossing her arms firmly. Her mom vanished, and she suddenly wished that Scarlett's mom and Scarlett and Avalon were not across the restaurant.

"You're a lunatic?" she shouted at Bobby, who jumped, attempting to look inconspicuous in an outdated McDonald's uniform. "I don't want a lunatic spirit guide!" she continued to rant. "I demand a replacement!"

Bobby took a step back from the table.

Indiana blinked. "What are you doing?" she growled.

"Talking," Bobby replied.

"Well maybe I don't want to talk to a mad axe-murderer!" Indiana told him angrily.

"What?" Bobby said. He frowned. And then, "Oh."

"Oh!"

"Okay," he said, glancing at the door. "Then… do you want me to go?"

"I want someone else! I want another spirit guide," Indiana told him.

Bobby scratched his arm. "Um, actually, I just made that bit up," he admitted.

Indiana gaped.

Bobby frowned. "I shouldn't have said that, should I?"

"What is wrong with you?"

Bobby winced. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself.

Indiana shook her head.

"I should probably just go," Bobby said finally. "I'll just go."

Indiana opened her mouth. He couldn't just leave! She hadn't even finished yelling at him yet.

Bobby disappeared.

Indiana huffed, recrossing her arms, and flopped back in her seat.

"Indiana?" Scarlett said, returning from the indoor playground.

* * *

She could hear Scarlett talking about a boy she had met at the indoor playground and wished she hadn't insisted that she finish her stupid milkshake.

Then she could have had some time to play on the playground. Then she could have met said boy. Then she wouldn't have had to yell at Bobby. And she wouldn't be feeling so bad right now.

_Mad axe-murderer_, she reminded herself.

* * *

She lay on her camping mat on the floor of Scarlett's bedroom, MP3 player earpieces plugged into her ears, and listened to Hilary Duff, unable to sleep. And then it came to her. Bobby wasn't supposed to be dead. She knew he had lived to be older than fifteen. She had sat through an entire show, including commercials, just because it had been about her mad axe-murdering spirit guide.

Something was wrong.

* * *

Indiana turned over sleepily, but seeing Bobby watching her, her eyes snapped open immediately. "What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"Good morning to you too, Dr. Jones," Bobby greeted, stepping away from the wall.

"This is a girl's bedroom!" Indiana hissed.

"I was a girl once," Bobby told her casually, shrugging.

Indiana glared. "You can't just do this! Follow me around like this!" She narrowed her eyes. "You've never been a girl!"

Bobby shrugged. "As I cannot recall any of my past lives, I cannot say for certain that I was," he admitted, "but I've been in plenty of girl's bedrooms before."

Indiana laughed, momentarily forgetting that they were not alone.

"I require your assistance in relaying a message," Bobby said.

"Why me?" Indiana growled.

Bobby shook his head. He didn't know.

Indiana made a face. Wasn't that just typical? "What's the message?" she growled.

Bobby straightened. "Catherine lives," he told her in an unusually serious way, and promptly disappeared.

Indiana growled. Why did he always do that? She didn't even know who she was meant to relay this message to.

* * *

Reagan was back at school today, Indiana thought with dread. It had been exactly one week and Bobby had not revisited, and neither had she had any way of relaying his message without knowing who to relay it to.

She now sat in school assembly, Reagan sitting only one seat away, looking bored and humming _I've Got You under My Skin_.

Without realising it, she smiled, remembering how Bobby had told her that he could do cabaret. It was only when Scarlett nudged her that she dropped the smile.

"Have you seen him yet?" Indiana asked quickly to cover. They weren't even sure that the boy from the McDonald's playground went to their school.

"No," Scarlett replied.

Indiana sighed.

* * *

Reagan kept out of her way for the rest of the day, and later her mom drove her over to the cemetery to visit her grandmother.

She was working on her Math homework up in her room when it hit her. She dropped everything and ran out of the room and into her mom's bedroom. "Grandma's alive!" she declared breathlessly, and then she noticed the strange man who really shouldn't have been in her mom's bedroom and the equally strange look her mom was fixing her with.

"Hi," the man said.

Indiana stared at him.

"My name is Ethan," the man continued after a long pause, obviously uncomfortable with the silence. "Your mom's my sister."

Indiana screamed. That was it! Her mom didn't have a brother. _Boyfriend!_ her mind screamed.

"Indiana-" her mom started to say.

Indiana pointed at her mom. "You don't have a brother!" she shouted.

"Ethan's my half brother," her mom finished.

Indiana fell silent, extremely embarrassed.

Ethan grimaced.

"You said something before," her mom remembered.

"Catherine lives!" Indiana deadpanned.

Her mom frowned. Ethan stared at her dumbly for two seconds before he too frowned.

"Grandma's alive," Indiana said lamely.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	20. Chapter 20

"I was working on a math problem and it just came to me," Indiana explained. A total lie, of course.

"What do you mean?" her mom asked.

"She didn't die," Indiana reiterated.

"Indiana, where does this come from?" her mom pressed.

Indiana glanced at Ethan quickly. He did not look very impressed. "I dunno," she said. "It was just there." Inside the room in her head, she shouted, "Help!"

Her mom was talking quietly with Ethan, who was looking very frowny.

"Jack's mom," Bobby said, dressed this time in a school uniform.

"What?" Indiana mouthed.

Bobby edged closer. "She's with Jack's mom," he said in a low voice.

Indiana made a face. "They can't hear you!" she hissed.

Bobby made a face back. If she was whispering, he was whispering.

"She's with Jack's mom," Indiana said loudly, causing the pair to stop talking and look at her.

"Jack?" her mom questioned, though it was clear to Indiana that she didn't really believe her.

"Emily," Bobby said distractedly.

Indiana frowned.

"Emily Russell," Bobby hissed from between his teeth.

"Emily Russell," Indiana repeated. "Jack is her boyfriend," she added.

Bobby stared. "Jack is a made up name!" he told her, very annoyed.

"A nickname," Indiana corrected. "I mean, Jack is her nickname."

Her mom looked at Ethan, who frowned.

* * *

Ethan frowned. Why would Angelo be talking to Indiana in her head? He had no problem believing the kid had inherited Parker's Inner Sense, but why would _Angelo_ be talking to the kid?

"Ethan, he's her father," Parker breathed tiredly.

"WHAT?" Ethan shouted, surprising even himself.

* * *

"Look what you did!" Indiana hissed. She stared at Bobby, who had put his hands up to cover his ears. There were real things wrong with him! "Who is Emily 'Jack' Russell?" she whispered.

Bobby did not seem to hear her.

_Emily 'Jack' Russell?_ Indiana frowned. Wasn't a Jack Russell a kind of dog? And Indiana Jones was a kind of man, she intoned inwardly. Bobby sucked at nicknames.

* * *

"Look, Ethan, it's not like I had a lot of say in the matter!" Parker growled.

Ethan was quiet.

Parker kept her eyes locked with his. She wasn't about to correct him at this point if he thought that meant IVF. "Jack Russell?" she said, changing topic. What kind of a nickname was that?

Ethan frowned.

As far as she was aware, Angelo was not big on nicknames, Parker thought. A shiver passed down her spine as an idea formed in her mind. Tim was more the kind for that sort of thing. She did not like the sound of Tim going anywhere near Emily. She looked at Ethan.

"You know what," Ethan said suddenly. "What if it's a nickname Emily made up herself?"

Parker considered this, though it didn't sound very likely in her opinion. She knew that Jarod had reunited with his family a couple of years ago now. "Ask," she breathed. "Ring and ask."

Ethan stared at her.

"You have her number. Ring."

Ethan reluctantly retrieved his cell phone and pressed in the number. "Yeah, it's me." He widened his eyes and mouthed, "Caller ID." He was having a Caller-ID-and-I-are-not-friends moment.

Parker leant closer in order to hear what Emily was saying, though largely unsuccessful.

"Fine," Ethan replied shortly. "Em, if I called you Jack, who would I be?" He frowned. "Just a question."

Parker shot a quick glance in Indiana's direction. She had to have so many questions! It was strange how she was so calm about all of this. Surely she would have questions?

She thought back to the DVDs she had bought for Indiana and it occurred to her that Indiana might have thought her Inner Sense cool and superheroish and definitely secret-worthy.

And wasn't it possible that it might seem that way?

It was in the developing stages. Indiana was six years old.

Parker felt a pang in her chest knowing that she had been the one who had passed this on to her daughter, that she had been the one responsible for taking away Indiana's chance of a 'normal' life.

"LYLE!" Ethan shouted, the sound bringing Parker back to reality.

She snatched the cell phone out of his hands. He had to stop shouting at people.

Ethan snatched it back.

Parker glared at him. No more shouting, the glare said.

"I gotta go," Ethan said shortly, and pressed the button to end the call. He glared back at her. His glare seemed to say, Lyle was your fake brother! You should have controlled him.

Parker blanched suddenly. _Lyle? Oh God!_

Ethan seemed to guess what she was thinking, because he took hold of her arms as though to stop her from doing something stupid.

* * *

"What- what's happening?" Indiana said suddenly. Why was Ethan holding her mom and looking at her like that?

She turned and stared at Bobby. He must have known this would happen. He must have known that they would not believe her alone, must have known that she would have to disclose her informant.

But Bobby was staring straight ahead, a slow line of blood making its way into his mouth from his nose.

Indiana made a face. She was sick of his silly games.

He blinked and collapsed to the floor.

"Um," Indiana said. What was she supposed to do about this? She wondered if dead people could die.

Her mom hurried toward her, Ethan at her side.

"Um," Indiana said again, glancing worriedly at the floor and Bobby.

"We need to talk right now," her mom said, taking her arm and leading her away from Bobby and out of the bedroom.

* * *

Indiana listened to her mom telling her about Voices and the Inner Sense and she knew what she must do. She had to lie.

Lie and say that, yes, she heard these Voices. But she hadn't wanted to tell her mom just yet. She had wanted it to be a surprise for when she found out something really cool.

And then her mom just looked at her and she shivered involuntarily. It was exactly how Debbie had made it sound. Taken advantage of. That's how her mom was looking at her.

Sure, Bobby was a lunatic, but it wasn't as though he had used his evil mind powers to command her to throw herself under a passing train or anything.

She frowned. She was doing it again, talking about the fake brother.

She quickly established that her mom thought that Lyle had told her those things, and as much as she wanted to deny this, she knew that she was going to agree. At that moment, it occurred to her that she was _just_ a six-year-old, and it was not exactly normal for six-year-olds to feel protective of dead mad axe-murdering 15 year olds who made fun of her name and thought robot dancing was cool.

_Protect, protect, protect_, she thought in a Dalek voice.

* * *

Her mom slept with her in her bed in her bedroom that night. Indiana heard her crying and supposed that her mother thought she was sleeping.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	21. Chapter 21

Indiana turned the pin over between her fingers, sitting cross-legged on the grass. It was a silver comet with the initials ER inscribed in the back. Emily Russell, she thought, though she was still not sure how Emily Russell's pin had turned up in her mom's backyard.

She listened to her MP3 player and thought all of these thoughts, but mostly she worried for her mom.

She wasn't even sure anymore why she had lied, why she had had to prevent her mother from finding out who had really told her that Catherine was alive. But more than anything, she realised that her mom could not believe her.

Not just because it had supposably been Lyle who had told her, but because what she had said was entirely groundless.

And this Emily person and her mom, who were they even, and why would they have anything to do with her grandmother?

My grandmother, she thought, and a sudden wave of anger rose in her. Bobby was such a liar, and it was only worse because he had lied about someone who she cared about.

She stood in the middle of the room in her head and screamed, "I hate you, Bobby Bowman!" She had plenty of valid reasons for doing so. She laughed. "What? That's it? You've nothing to say?" She shook her head. Of course he didn't!

"I didn't lie," Bobby's voice came from behind the sofa.

Indiana stomped around the back of the sofa and there he was. "Oh, that's rich, because from what I've heard – you're nothing but a compulsive liar!"

Bobby rubbed his eyes.

Fake tears. Indiana smiled.

Bobby wrapped his arms around his legs and didn't speak.

"Hi."

Indiana blinked. The room evaporated, and she found herself staring at a pair of legs, which when she looked up turned out to be an entire woman with red hair.

"My name is Emily," the woman greeted kindly.

Indiana frowned. She opened her palm to reveal the pin and looked at it for a moment.

Emily looked too.

"It's yours."

Emily frowned, tears banking up in her eyes.

"I found it right here," Indiana explained.

Emily dropped onto the grass in front of her, crossing her legs, and cried.

Indiana hadn't expected that. She stared.

* * *

"Emily!" Ethan cried, rushing out of the house and over to Emily.

Indiana could only stare. She didn't know about comforting people.

Parker walked out across the lawn.

"Emily?" Jarod called.

Parker stopped. What was going on today? She turned in time to see Jarod come running around the house, and met his eyes hesitantly.

Jarod's eyes quickly moved from her face and he sighed and Parker knew immediately that Jarod and Emily had come after Ethan.

Emily had just stopped crying when she spotted Jarod and started up again.

Indiana stood quickly, watching Jarod's approach.

Ethan was talking in a low voice to Emily, who was trying to leave. Ethan held on to her and didn't let her. It wasn't safe for her to run off.

Indiana frowned.

Bobby looked at her, and she saw it.

"Sweepers are coming!" she shouted.

* * *

Indiana lay on her bed. She could hear the Sweepers downstairs, talking with her mom. Her mom started to shout, upset that no one had contacted her.

"Indiana?" a voice came from the bedroom door.

Indiana took the pillow away from over her face and saw that it was Sam.

Sam grimaced.

"You don't have to explain," Indiana said. "You're here to protect us from a bad person who wants to hurt my mom."

Sam frowned. "I suppose I am," he finally said.

Indiana watched him leave, and put the pillow back over her head.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	22. Chapter 22

Indiana saw Sam a fortnight later when her mom invited him to go on vacation with them. Her mom liked Sam, she knew. She didn't mind Sam, if she was truthful. And she wanted her mom to be happy.

The car was packed, the car was driven out of the driveway, and the vacation had begun.

* * *

Blue was running systems diagnostics, his eyes flickering in the top of his head, hands moving swiftly across the touch screen in front of him.

It slightly unnerved Shalla, though she supposed she should be thankful he wasn't muttering to himself in that made up language he had been another time she had seen him.

He had been having trouble with a new prototype upgrade recently, and she supposed that this was the reason for the hands, which had started to agitate her more now because she realised that he wasn't looking at what he was doing and people not looking at what they were doing just upset her, especially when button-pressing was involved.

Imo and Ariel were resting, though she had been unable to herself, and she had taken a walk, somehow ending up here, trying to work something out. She was sure she had imagined it now, because Blue was back to feeling like nothing. He was blocking her, of course.

She wondered for a moment. Perhaps he blocked everyone. Standard procedure. Perhaps it helped with his work. Efficiency or something. Or perhaps by blocking other people from feeling him he thought that he could somehow separate himself from them, block himself from feeling them. Perhaps it hurt less that way. Perhaps he could pretend that he didn't care that he was different.

But Shalla knew that he had been human, and genetically, he still was. Or at least she assumed he was, because she could not feel it herself and say with 100 percent accuracy that he was.

He looked human. That was what she had to go on.

Shalla thought about saying something, talking to him, but then she wasn't sure that he could talk. It was true, she had never heard him speak. She wondered if he could, or if his numerous upgrades interfered with that. It was not everybody who was equipped to handle upgrades. Many died by this process.

Blue's head fell back and he begun muttering to the ceiling.

_Bad time,_ Shalla thought. There he went again, talking to his machines.

The lab flooded with Tower techs.

_Systems breach,_ Shalla thought, wondering why it was the techs did not comment on her being there but simply streamed around her unaware. She felt a chill settle on her as she realised why it was the techs had not bothered her.

To them, she was not here.

But Blue understood perfectly that she was.

* * *

They had stopped at a roadhouse and her mom was sipping coffee and Bobby was about to fall out his chair, lounging in it that way.

"You'll crack your skull open," Indiana warned in a low voice when the grown ups were looking away.

"Missing a brain," Bobby intoned.

Indiana stared at him. Well that was a stupid and self-depreciating thing to say!

Bobby leant forward, setting all of the chair legs down. "Smile, Dr. Jones. Discipline is not one of my strong points."

Indiana glared. He was doing it again! Putting himself down.

Bobby began talking to himself. Indiana was able to glean that it was computers that he was talking about, but that was about the extent of it. Even then, it was very strange computer talk.

She sighed and resigned herself to echoing him in a mumble, just to see if he noticed and told her to stop, which he did not, but instead started talking in a highly obscure language, though she did not give up, which was probably the reason Sam was fixing her with that look, mumbling all sorts of nonsense under her breath. She fixed her gaze with Sam's and continued on in that obscure language, and it was only when her mom returned that she stopped.

Sam's look had meant something, she could tell, but what she could not.

"I'm sick of talking Borg," she said when Sam finally excused himself to take a phone call and her mom was distracted listening in.

* * *

"Look, you dummy!" Indiana reprimanded, doing star jumps on her motel bed. "It is not easy being a mad axe-murderer. It takes forward-thinking and patience and… a whole lot of other really disciplined things!" She narrowed her eyes on Bobby. "So stop putting yourself down!"

Bobby shrugged. He didn't have to listen to a girl who was obviously attempting to damage motel property if he didn't want to.

Indiana glared.

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat, and Bobby mouthed. "Sam."

Indiana poked her tongue out at him and turned around, giving up on her star jumping for the moment. "Sam," she greeted.

"How are you?" Sam asked.

Indiana frowned.

Sam grimaced. "I mean, _how are you_?"

"I'm fine," Indiana replied.

Sam sighed. "Yeah," he droned.

"That's the spirit!" Indiana chimed.

Sam frowned.

"My mom says that a lot," Indiana explained.

Sam nodded. She could tell he wanted to believe her. He'd let it pass. He started to turn.

Indiana waved quickly.

Sam smiled and left the room.

"I like him," Indiana declared.

Bobby frowned and jumped off the bed. "Want me to show you how to robot dance?" he asked.

Indiana stared. "Murder me!" she told him seriously.

* * *

Her mom, Sam and Indiana went for a walk in the forest after dinner. It was very cold. When she got back to the motel, Indiana brushed her teeth and dropped straight into bed. The only thing wrong was that she couldn't sleep.

Finally, Bobby ended up telling her a story about a woman named Olga who was also a wereunicorn, that was, she could transform into a unicorn and go on top-secret infiltration missions.

So, this one mission, Olga had to break into this way super evil facility and steal top-secret highest level clearance documents. Piece of cake.

The men in the security room had been drinking and put the shiny white horse thing with the funny horn down to said drinking. Next thing they knew, it would be Van Helsing and the Gingerbread Man!

But down in the officially-they-don't-exist labs, an evil and angry scientist woman was yelling at her underlings. They were worthless and incompetent! Meanwhile, Olga had transformed back into her human form and was busy stealing top-secret highest level clearance documents, which she accomplished with moderate ease.

Cut to Angry Scientist's lab, a crisis was rapidly unfolding. Underlings might have to be sacrificed. They were officially running late on a deadline. The universe might as well have been about to explode!

Indiana frowned tiredly.

"The End," Bobby finished.

"That isn't a very good story," Indiana told him. "It kind of sucks."

Bobby smiled and began to hum.

Indiana fell asleep after that. She didn't believe in wereunicorns.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	23. Chapter 23

Indiana frowned at the object in the glass case. Her mom had taken her to a museum. She really didn't like museums. "What do you suppose it is?" she asked Bobby.

Bobby frowned. "Obviously it is a thing!"

Indiana raised her eye brows. "Did you even go to school?" she asked.

Bobby jumped up and down on the spot. "Yes!"

Indiana scrunched up her nose.

Bobby calmed down and stopped jumping. "Frisbee?" he proposed with a shrug.

Indiana shook her head and stomped off to look at the next exhibit. Bobby fell into step behind her.

"Post hole digger!" he cried excitedly from behind her, darting across the room and attempting to put his arms around the cabinet in a hug. "These things are so cool! They dig holes and stuff!"

Indiana coughed.

Bobby sighed, staring at the post hole digger a moment before turning back to Indiana. "They have a gift shop, right? Tell me they have a gift shop!"

* * *

Indiana spent another boring hour walking and staring at museum-worthy objects, Bobby narrating on occasion, before she was finally allowed to stop and visit the gift shop.

Bobby planted himself over by the stuffed toys and wouldn't move.

Indiana walked around, looking at mugs and magnets and erasers, before finally making her way to the stuffed toys and sighing heavily.

"They're so cute!" Bobby defended.

Indiana narrowed her eyes. _Mad axe-murderer_, her eyes reminded him silently.

Bobby stared at his shoes sadly.

"Look, who's the six-year-old here?" Indiana said through her teeth, arms crossed.

Bobby continued to stare at the floor, shoulders slumped.

Indiana rolled her eyes and grabbed one of the stuffed things, a thing that could have been a tractor with happy eyes. "Fine!" she gritted, turning swiftly and stomping to the register.

Bobby bounded after her excitedly.

"One, not two, Indiana," her mom reminded her. "Pick anything, but one only."

Indiana slouched, turning to her mother. "What?" she complained.

Her mom held up a single finger. One only.

Indiana stomped on the spot a bit. "Fine!" she finally growled. "The caboose!"

Her mom frowned. It was, after all, a tractor, not a caboose, or even any part of a train. She produced a note and the hated not-a-caboose was bought.

* * *

"He's not even alive!" Indiana grumbled to herself angrily.

She hated that stupid stuffed tractor! Why had she even let herself be talked, or not talked into buying the dumb thing?

And the dumb thing didn't even robot dance! It was the definition of lametastic!

* * *

Indiana was allowed a quarter hour of telephone time for each friend. She telephoned Scarlett first, and ended up spending the entire 15 minutes wishing it was her who had gone to the indoor play centre and lost a pack of gum in the ball pool.

Avalon had visited her dad in prison and her mom had bought River and her jelly, ice-cream and regular whipped cream from a spray can afterward.

Of course, it was Avalon who asked her how she was, what she had done, if she was enjoying vacation.

So Indiana lied.

It was fine. She could speak Elvish now. She'd been to a very creepy Science Fiction convention, though she hadn't met Michael Shanks. Bummer.

She was learning Goa'uld. She could say 'Cree, Jaffa!'

She'd even seen a really cool shooting star and made a really cool wish, though she couldn't tell what she'd wished because then the wish would die. She was seriously going to fib and tell Scarlett she'd seen a real actual UFO.

The only thing she hadn't done was eat any jelly, which she was totally pining for at this very moment.

* * *

"Explain this to me," Indiana said to the dark. She was supposed to be asleep, but she had woken up. She wasn't even sure Bobby could hear her, if he was even there, or was even listening. "How do you even know my grandma's not dead?" she asked anyway.

"Zombies live; monsters are not vampires, the light doesn't burn them; aliens are real," Bobby said blankly through the darkness.

Indiana frowned.

Bobby laughed, and Indiana heard a thudding sound, as though Bobby had been sitting against the wall and had flopped his head back. But the sound changed.

Indiana jammed her eyes shut because she didn't want to see Bobby crying, even if it was dark and she could see very little. If she just waited, Bobby would go away.

But Bobby didn't go away. He just stopped crying.

* * *

Indiana did not speak. She stared out of the car window and did not take in what she was seeing. Just for her, her mom took her to an adventure park. But she was not interested in adventure parks or stupid children's games. Still, she had to put in an effort, so she picked her feet up and walked away to find something that might have been fun yesterday.

She slid down a slide, but there was no time to stop and sit when she reached the bottom. They were other children who wanted to play on the slide too. She stood and saw that her mom and Sam were sitting together, drinking coffees in paper cups from the kiosk, and talking.

She climbed to the top of the slide again and waited until it was her turn to slide to the bottom. She suddenly wished that Scarlett and Avalon were there with her, or even River. She would even have been thankful to see Charity.

She had slid down the same slide eight times so far. Someone was humming behind her. _For the Good Times_. She knew before she turned who it would be.

"Wanna go climb on that climby thing?" Bobby asked, trying to sound unconcerned, and pointed.

Indiana started walking.

* * *

Parker scanned the play equipment, spying Indiana playing on some climbing equipment like the ones people trained on for rock climbing. She smiled.

Indiana looked happy.

There were no bad voices in her head.

She was just a kid.

* * *

Sam sighed. There went that, that was the last of his coffee. "I'm done," he told Parker. "You want another? I'm headed that way myself."

Parker smiled. "That would be nice," she replied.

Sam nodded, smiling inside. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

The kiosk was busy. Chips, lollies, fizzy drinks, hot pies. Sam sighed. All he wanted was a coffee.

Across the park, Indiana was preoccupied with a game of noughts-and-crosses. Sam smiled faintly, until he realised that the reason he could not see who she was playing with was because she wasn't. She was playing noughts-and-crosses by herself.

His smile vanished and was replaced by a frown. Something about the whole thing bothered him.

Across the park, Indiana screamed and jumped up and down in victory.

Sam was two customers away from being served. He left the queue.

* * *

"Something's wrong," Sam's voice filtered through to her brain. But it wasn't just his voice, it was a worried voice.

Parker looked around and met Sam's worried gaze.

* * *

"Indiana?" Indiana heard her mom's voice.

"Can't we stay?" Indiana whined, whirling to see her mom and Sam walking up to her. "Just for a little bit?" She made a face. "Please, please, please?"

Her mom stopped in front of her and Sam stopped by her side. "Indiana, I am speaking to you now, but is mine the only voice you can hear?"

Indiana frowned. The enthusiasm dropped out of her face. "What?" she said.

Her mom stepped closer to her, her eyes locked onto her face. "Do you remember when we talked about hearing Voices, Indiana?"

Indiana nodded.

"Just give me a yes or no. Is mine the only voice you can hear right now, right at this moment?"

Indiana stared at her mom's face. "Yes," she answered.

"And before?" Sam interrupted. "Over there?" He nodded to where she had been playing noughts-and-crosses with Bobby.

"Yes." Her _yes_ was sloppy. It was a scared _yes_. She knew instantly that Sam knew. And all because of a bad _yes_.

Sam shared a glance with her mom.

Her mom looked at her and Indiana saw the pain there and wanted to run. She knew exactly what her mom was going to say next. Vacation was over.

And she was right.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	24. Chapter 24

Indiana was sitting in Sydney's lounge room in Sydney's apartment, wishing she could just melt and sink into the carpet the way Reagan's blood had when he had cut himself.

The grown ups were talking about her in another room. She did not have to hear them actually talking to know that they were. It was entirely expected. Sydney was supposed to make it better now.

She hugged the stuffed tractor with the funny eyes and tried not to think about the note sitting alone in that room in her head, tried not to think about the words written in green crayon: _I'm sorry._

* * *

She could see Sydney talking, her mom watching anxiously, and then she heard Sydney say that he wanted to try something, and her mom was staring at her like that, so she nodded.

Sydney sighed and sat down on the sofa beside her. He wanted her to relax, he said. But he was going to help her. She wasn't going to have to do it alone. He would talk her through it.

She clutched the stuffed tractor tighter in her hands.

* * *

Bobby slapped her across the face. "Stop it," he told her. "Stop listening to him."

Indiana screamed. Why was Bobby doing this? He was supposed to be on her side?

"Indiana?"

Indiana could hear Sydney's worried voice, and her mom's scared voice. Bobby tried to grab her arms, tried to hold her still, but she struggled, and started screaming. She was wide awake now.

Sydney had her in his arms. He was holding her tight, but not tight enough to hurt her. She heard him say "okay", and then he was asking what had happened, how she was. All she could do was close her eyes and cover her ears.

And then a calming feeling came to her, waiting to be invited in, and she knew that she could trust the feeling, because it was her mother, and she so wanted to be calm, she so wanted to feel safe and loved. She just wanted her mother. So she let it in.

The calmness embraced her. She felt so calm. It made her smile.

But it was so hard to smile. That was when she knew that something was wrong, that it had not been her mother at all, but the calmness stole her away, stole her voice and stole her body and locked her so far away, in a place so deep and dark and alone, that she forgot that she even existed, that she had ever done so.

* * *

"Shit! I'm so sorry!" That was Paulie. She even cried.

But Parker would not cry. Not in front of Paulie, her little sister.

* * *

Indiana lay in a bed in a ward in a coma. She remained in a coma for 38 days. And then she woke up.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	25. Chapter 25

**2016**

Indiana felt sick. She was sitting in Geography class feeling sick and wanting to throw up. She didn't need to see a doctor, she knew why she felt sick. Sick and scared.

She stuck her hand up and asked to go to the bathroom, and was sick.

* * *

The sickness went away eventually. It was quicker than she had expected. After that, she tried to forget she had even had it. That was until she was seated on the coach next to Reagan because Scarlett and Avalon had been sitting together and Reagan had been late. There was nowhere else for him to sit.

She felt so sick she almost couldn't breathe. She didn't think she would be able to compete in the inter-school sports anymore. She just kept remembering how small she'd been, and, even though he was only two years older, how much bigger Reagan had been.

"Are you alright?" she heard Reagan ask, removing his ear phones. She could hear he had been listening to Norah Jones, but it didn't matter, none of it mattered, because just the sound of his voice made her sick to her stomach. "You look really pale," Reagan continued.

She knew he was looking at her now, though she kept her gaze straight ahead, but he wouldn't stop looking at her. She just closed her eyes and told herself she didn't hear him.

"Indie?" Reagan asked.

She felt his hand on her arm and her eyes shot open. She screamed. She didn't even know what she was screaming, but she knew she couldn't stop screaming. She screamed and scratched and hit.

Reagan had to move. He sat up front beside one of the teachers.

Indiana didn't even care to listen to his lame excuse, and she only roughly figured out what it must have been later, when she was getting changed into her sports uniform in the girl's toilets and Scarlett glanced at her and said, "I didn't know you were scared of spiders?"

Indiana stared at her for five seconds, before she turned away and said lamely, "Yeah."

* * *

Indiana did not see Reagan for most of the day. It was only until after lunch that Scarlett dragged Indiana and Avalon off to see a boy she liked who was competing in the field hockey, that Indiana saw Reagan again.

"Oh my god!" Scarlett exclaimed. "I cannot believe your twit relative is playing." She blinked in disbelief. "Oh my god! This is unspeakably bad! Do you even realise what this means? Oh my god!"

Avalon shared a glance with Indiana and rolled her eyes. Scarlett was totally over-reacting.

"Oh my god!" Scarlett cried again.

"We'll be fine," Avalon told her friend.

"Shut up, Av!" Scarlett snapped, fingers crossed. "Don't even speak!"

Avalon rolled her eyes and hugged Indiana's back.

* * *

It had happened on her birthday, which she'd celebrated with a sleepover at her house with Scarlett and Avalon. But then her mom had been called into work late. With the only adult gone, Scarlett had decided it would be cool if they had some wine, just a little bit, to celebrate, and Indiana had found herself half-heartedly agreeing. Just a little bit.

But then Scarlett had gotten bored of the wine. She wanted something stronger. Indiana really wanted to tell her to stop, but she hadn't wanted to seem uncool, especially on her birthday. So she'd agreed again.

Everything had got really weird then. She couldn't ring her mom, she just couldn't. She didn't even really know why she'd done it, but she'd rung Reagan instead. She knew her mom had his number, so she'd gone into her mom's bedroom to find it, and she'd rung and asked him to come. She really needed his help. He was older, he'd be able to sort it all out. That was how Reagan had come into things.

At first he'd been acting all responsible. Making sure no one had any more alcohol and cleaning things up, getting them something to eat that they hopefully wouldn't throw up. And then Scarlett had had to play _that_ song.

She'd decided that she'd wanted to dance. It would work off the alcohol, she'd said. Reagan had resignedly allowed it. As long as she didn't break anything on the house or on herself, he'd said.

But then that stupid song. Indiana could still hear the words in her head. _Abracadabra, I'm gonna reach out and grab ya._

Reagan had looked over at her and he'd said that he needed to talk to her. Perhaps he figured with all the drinking she wouldn't remember it in the morning. She couldn't think about it. She didn't want to understand.

He'd looked serious, as though he meant they needed to work things out, alibis for when her mom got back, so she'd agreed to talk.

She should have known as soon as he grabbed her hand, as soon as he led her upstairs to her mom's room to talk where they would have 'some peace and quiet'. But she'd been drinking, and he hadn't, and he was the elder, and she wasn't. And that was how it had happened.

* * *

She'd gone to bed afterward. Like a good little girl. They'd all gone to bed. And her mom never even knew.

Indiana hadn't wanted to believe it herself when it all came back to her in History class that morning. She had convinced herself that it was just a bad dream brought on by the alcohol. But then she'd started to notice things, things like how she ached a little too much in places she shouldn't have ached, or that her period was late.

And then she had known that it had all been real.

* * *

"Indie!" Reagan's voice brought her out of her stupor.

The players were taking a break. The game was over. She wasn't sure if they'd be playing again later, wasn't sure of the outcome of the game. All she saw was Reagan, and he was walking over to where she was.

She would have run had she not remembered Scarlett and Avalon just at that moment. She suddenly realised how much she hated him calling her that. Indie.

"You came to see me," he was saying. "You didn't have to do that." He rolled his eyes at his rudeness. "I mean, that was really nice." He smiled, shaking his head. "Mind you, I still sucked."

Indiana heard him sigh. He was staring at her now, but she couldn't make herself speak. She was concentrating so hard on not running, on not crying.

"How are you? Feeling a bit better now?"

She blinked. "Fine."

"We're all fine," Scarlett drawled. "Why don't you-" She paused a moment in mock thought. "Piss off!"

Reagan shrugged, glancing at Indiana again, before walking off past the three girls. See now, he was pissing off!

* * *

"I need to go to the toilet!" Indiana managed, before streaking away. She heard Scarlett say, "Let her go", presumably to Avalon, and then she was too far away to hear any more.

She ran into the girl's toilets and locked herself away in one of the cubicles. The first cubicle she tried, the door didn't lock, so she ran out and tried another. This time the door locked.

She was never going to come out. She would probably die in there.

* * *

She did come out. She had to come out to go on the coach back to school, and then her mom would be picking her up, and she wouldn't be allowed to cry.

"Indiana?" she heard a quiet voice say. But definitely girl, and definitely not teacher. "Are you in here?" A pause. "It's me. Av. Everyone's getting ready to leave now. We're going home."

Indiana allowed herself to open the cubicle door a fraction.

It was Avalon. She had tried to hide her worry, but it was there all the same. She offered her hand. A hand that was definitely not Reagan's hand.

Indiana took Avalon's hand, and she let the other girl pull her close to her side, and together they left the girl's toilets and boarded the coach. Scarlett was already sitting with another girl from their grade. Indiana could sit with Avalon. It was okay. Oh how Indiana wanted it to all be okay.

* * *

"How did it go? Win any medals?"

Reagan frowned, glancing up to see Persephone watching him. "I don't remember," he answered.

Persephone made a face. She didn't believe him. He was covering up, and very badly.

"I sucked," he finally admitted. "As usual."

Persephone laughed. He could see her shaking her head, and then he couldn't see her anymore. She'd left.

* * *

It was on Saturday, when she was sleeping over at Scarlett's, that it all finally came out. She told Scarlett and Avalon everything, but she made them promise not to tell anyone else. They would keep her secret.

That night, nobody slept on the floor. The three girls shared Scarlett's bed, and Indiana almost felt safe.

* * *

Reagan was walking back to his locker from one of the science labs, when he noticed that Scarlett, a friend of Indiana's, had stopped and was looking at him. No, not looking at him, glaring at him.

"You're dead!" she mouthed in a deadly hiss. And then she was gone.

* * *

"Mr. Parker!"

Reagan's eyes finally focused. The teacher was staring at him expectantly. "Um, what?" he said.

Several snickers. The teacher repeated the question. Reagan answered the question. He zoned out again.

* * *

Reagan turned on the spot, eyeing his car for a moment, looking all around the parking lot. It wasn't time to go home yet. He turned and walked back the way he had come.

Indiana was waiting out the front of the school for Parker to pick her up.

"Indie!" he called over to her. She didn't immediately turn. "We need to talk, Indie."

He saw someone standing beside her turn and recognised her as Scarlett. Scarlett turned swiftly back to Indiana, and then she was holding her hand, and another girl was holding her other hand – Avalon, he guessed – and the three girls were running.

Reagan moaned. "No." He hated running. He ran after them.

* * *

He caught them up on the footpath halfway along the fence that ran alongside the school oval.

Scarlett kept pulling, but Indiana had had enough of running. She had started to cry.

Reagan stopped several paces short of them and frowned.

"Just leave me alone!" Indiana shouted, but her tears choked the sound, so that it sounded small and worn and scared.

* * *

Reagan wasn't moving. He was just standing there, watching them. Watching Indiana. Scarlett wanted to kill him. Thoughts ran through her head, thoughts of how she would do it, how she would kill Reagan Parker, but she pushed them away. They had to go now. Right now whilst there was still some distance between Reagan and them. Whilst Reagan was thinking through his next move, because she was sure now that he knew that Avalon and she knew, that Indiana had told them.

She pulled Indiana after her. Reagan didn't follow.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	26. Chapter 26

Parker sighed. She would have preferred that Indiana had asked, or at least told her where she was going before she just charged off to who knows where. _She is a teenager_, she reasoned with herself, and sighed. Back off to work then.

She had just got off from work and was pulling into her drive when she noticed another car parked in front of the house. She did not recognise the car, though she did recognise the person who now slid off the bonnet.

"Jonathan," she greeted as Reagan approached her.

"We need to talk," was all he said, jamming his hands into his pockets and never once breaking eye contact.

Parker frowned, an uncomfortableness stirring inside her. Reagan did not usually seek her out this way, and nor was it like him to be so forthright in conversation. "About what?" she asked, her mind still on his odd behaviour.

"I hurt Indiana. You deserve to know."

Parker stared. She could tell he was serious by the way he was watching her. "In!" she barked.

He waited for her to open the door and walked inside.

Once the door was closed, she drew her gun and levelled it with his head.

If he was surprised, he did not show it.

"What did you do to my baby?" Parker growled.

For the first time since she had seen him that day, Reagan frowned, as though there was something he couldn't quite figure out. "I don't know yet."

* * *

Her mom had come to collect her from Scarlett's for dinner, and Indiana now walked into the lounge room, her mom beside her. She had to fight very hard not to scream when she saw Reagan sitting there on her mom's and her sofa. Instead she asked, "What's he doing here?"

Reagan looked up at the sound of her voice, but he didn't look at her for very long. He quickly looked at her mom instead.

Indiana was confused. She forced her panic down. She needed to play it very cool whilst she didn't know what was going on.

"Indiana?"

She looked at her mom. Anything that meant she could pretend Reagan really wasn't there.

"How do you feel about Jonathan being here?"

She frowned. _Jonathan? What?_ It took a moment before she was able to understand whom her mother was referring to, and then the question just seemed wrong. "I'm sorry," she apologised. "I didn't know it was Jonathan's birthday." That was it, she thought. There was nothing wrong. Her mom was just upset that she had gone to Scarlett's without saying anything first. "Sorry, mom."

Her mom frowned painfully and touched her face. "I need you to tell me how Jonathan hurt you, baby?" Indiana heard her say.

She was crying. Oh god, she was crying! She had squeezed up into a tight ball on the floor and was crying. She couldn't stop crying.

Her mom was touching her, and saying things, soothing things, but she could not believe any of them when Reagan was there, watching her, secretly loving that it had been all his doing.

Except that he wasn't. He wasn't even sitting on the sofa any longer. He had gone out of the room. Maybe even out of the house. _He's run away_, she thought. _The coward's run away._ But the tears would not stop.

* * *

She was vaguely aware of being carried. Her mom was carrying her. She carried her upstairs and into her bedroom, but Indiana did not want to go into that room, not the room where it had happened.

She struggled.

Her mom didn't try to fight. She took her to her bedroom and lay down with her, holding her.

* * *

When Indiana had fallen asleep, Parker rang Sam on her cell phone, and then she rang Sydney. She did not ring Persephone. She thought about it, and then she decided against it.

She had explained the whole thing to Sam over the phone. She was not going to come down until Sydney came up and told her that Sam was keeping an eye on Reagan.

She didn't count the time until finally Sydney appeared in the doorway of her daughter's bedroom, all she knew was that Indiana was asleep, and that Reagan might have bailed.

Reagan was in the kitchen, sitting at the table, Sam standing guard. He had not bailed.

"What did you do to her?" Parker snarled, side stepping the kitchen table and taking hold of Reagan's hair.

Sam did not move except to train his gun on Reagan in case he tried anything.

"I don't know," Reagan answered levelly.

"Miss Parker," Sydney warned. He was not comfortable with whatever it was this was.

Parker threw Reagan back down in the chair and spun sharply to face Sydney. They would talk about this in the other room, and when she got back there had better be some answers waiting. "When I come back," she breathed to Sam. "Answers."

Sydney frowned, trying to gauge Sam's reaction, but Sam kept his face blank save for his usual seriousness.

* * *

Sydney listened to what Parker had to say, though it was harder than usual to be detached, he knew he had to try, because that was part of the reason Parker had contacted him, why she had asked for him to be present.

He did not make comment. He simply listened.

* * *

"What did you do to her?" Sam demanded, an unexpected meanness to his voice.

Reagan did not look at him, instead he looked at the table. "I don't know," he repeated, but he no longer sounded sure and in control.

Sam growled. That was not the answer he wanted to hear.

Reagan lifted his face and met his eyes. "I want to get up and walk around," he said.

Sam's gaze did not shift. Reagan wasn't going anywhere.

"You knew my father," Reagan tried to negotiate. "Perhaps you even knew what he was? Please."

Sam stiffened. He did not appreciate Reagan saying those things. "Never gonna happen!" he growled.

"Why not?"

Sam did not respond.

Reagan shot up out of the seat. "Look, I'm not going to hurt her again!" he said. "She's like my little sister! Why would I do that?"

"Calm down!" Sam ordered him, levelling his weapon.

Reagan laughed. "Okay! So let me get this straight, you don't believe they were twins either?" He laughed harder. "I can't believe you! You're so funny!" With that, he sat back down.

* * *

Reagan was laughing so hard tears had started to run down his face.

Sam watched the fat droplets in disgust.

A sudden shrill wall of silence rode up. Reagan had stopped laughing.

"Something is amusing, is it?" Parker's cold voice cut through the ringing silence.

"What gave it away?" Reagan asked as though genuinely interested in her answer.

Parker's eyes flashed.

"That's it!" Reagan declared brightly, leaping out of his chair. "I'm done here."

"I will fire!" Sam promised, jumping in before Parker had a chance to respond.

Reagan looked at him, considering him. "I need to touch something," he said, as though he thought Sam would allow him without much thought.

Sam tightened his grip on his gun.

"Tell me something, Jonathan," Sydney interrupted, his voice shaking. He really thought that Sam would do it.

Reagan looked at him.

"You said you need to touch-"

"Reagan Parker," Reagan cut him off, straightening himself to his full height. "Class Five Empath. Specialist, Psychometry."

"Lyle Parker's son," Parker countered in Sydney's absence of response, a deadly edge to her voice.

"Don't."

Parker whipped around and narrowed her eyes on Sydney. Dead meat, her eyes said.

Sydney stood there, his chest heaving, gaze unwavering on hers.

Parker growled. She was not impressed, but for Sydney, she was willing to go that little bit farther. She whipped back around, glaring at the boy. Her eyes flashed. She was only doing this for Sydney. There would be no further allowances. "Amaze me!" she growled in an almost animalistic voice.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Sam growled, leaning in to Parker's ear, but never once taking his eyes or his gun off Reagan.

"Play along!" Parker growled back.

* * *

Reagan came to an abrupt standstill in the hallway, holding out a hand as though to silence the group of people following at his rear.

Sydney frowned.

Reagan seemed to decide on something, and spun back to the group. "It happened on Indiana's birthday."

Parker narrowed her eyes.

"You were called away to work," Reagan told her, turning swiftly and entering the lounge room. He walked to the sofa quickly and sat down.

* * *

Reagan sat down. He needed to think. The alcohol was an important detail. He couldn't just leave it out, could he? Would that be right? He frowned. He needed to know more before he could decide what to include and what not to include.

He stood quickly and walked around the room, touching the spines of books, frames on the wall, pieces of furniture.

_There!_ Indiana had been standing there.

He walked to the spot.

_A song was playing. Her friends were dancing. Reagan said, "We need to talk." She looked at him. It was probably a good idea. Her mom would die if she found out they had been drinking alcohol! She crossed the room, closing the distance between them._

He traced her steps to the spot.

_Reagan watched her getting closer and closer. He watched her stop beside him. She was looking at him. He reached down and took her hand._

_It felt warm._

_"We should probably find somewhere where there is some peace and quiet," he suggested. He squeezed her hand, stepping away, toward the hallway, testing Indiana's response to the action. She stepped after him. They made it out the door._

Reagan stopped. "I need to go up there," he said to Sam. "That thing," he pointed to the gun, then prodded his chest, "on me."

Sam narrowed his eyes, but Parker nodded the okay.

_It was easy to lead her upstairs after that. And then into Melody's bedroom._

Again, Reagan paused.

Parker nodded. He could go inside.

_Reagan sat himself on the bed, Indiana planting herself beside him. He was still holding her hand, and it was now rested between them with his own hand. It was much less loud in this room._

Reagan crossed to the bed and sat, laying his hand down where he had that day.

_Indiana__ squeezed his hand. She picked it up in both of hers, considering its weight. "Are you alright?" she asked, glancing into Reagan's face. He was very quiet all of a sudden._

_Reagan nodded. He was fine. "Fine," he said._

_Indiana went back to playing with his hand, squeezing the tips of his fingers._

Reagan squeezed his fingers with his other hand.

_She lifted his hand to her face and pressed his fingers against her lips. She began to kiss his fingertips, his palm, his wrist. Reagan watched her doing this. She kissed his wrist several times again. He leant down and kissed her on the lips._

_Indiana fell back on the mattress, and Reagan turned and lowered himself on top of her, kissing her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth again, touching her, smiling at the little noises she made._

Reagan lay back on the mattress. He touched his brow, he touched his eyes, he touched his cheek. He paused, and then he started to convulse.

* * *

"Shit!" Sam swore loudly. "He's seizing."

Parker stared at Reagan on the bed. Sam grabbed her arm.

"You have to-" Sam tried to explain.

Parker frowned.

"No," Sydney replied simply. He was not going anywhere when the boy was doing that.

Sam took one of Sydney's arms, Sydney trying to pry his hand off his arm.

"He's stopped," Parker said suddenly.

The two men stopped struggling. Sam dropped Sydney's arm. Sydney rubbed it with his other hand. They both turned to look at the bed.

Reagan was very still for one moment, and then he shot off the bed and out the door. Sam could hear his shoes on the staircase, the sound growing fainter and fainter.

"What just happened?" Parker asked.

Sam moved to the door and looked out into the hall. "I'm not sure."

* * *

They found Reagan outside. He was hiding out in his car, crying.

Parker put her hand on the doorhandle, but she didn't open the door. Suddenly, she didn't know what to do. "Get him to tell you what happened," she said to Sam, crossing her arms across her chest. "I need a coffee." She turned to walk back inside.

"No! No." Sam grabbed her arm and dragged her back. "You're going to stand here and listen! I'm not playing Chinese Whispers with you, Mel!"

Parker narrowed her eyes in a glare.

"Glare all you want!" Sam told her, yanking the car door open. "Reagan, I need you to tell me what happened now."

Reagan rocked back and forth, arms wrapped around his shaking legs, tears wetting the knees of his school pants. "I made her have sex with me," Reagan spoke in a wobbly voice. "She didn't want to. But I made her. I wouldn't stop. Sh-she hated it." He sniffed. "I'd wanted to for ages. She-she's really pretty, you know?"

Parker launched herself at Reagan at this point. Sam caught her in his arms and hauled her backward, dumping her next to Sydney with a glare. She had better behave if she wanted to hear the rest of it. She fixed him with two murderous eyes.

Sam shook himself and turned his attention back to Reagan.

"I-I took some- some pills," Reagan continued, "so that I would forget." He giggled strangely, lifting his face from his knees, and fixed his eyes onto Sam's. "I think I like it better this time around."

This time it was Parker lunging to restrain Sam and drag him off an unconscious Reagan.

* * *

Indiana reeled away from the front door. Her mom thought she was asleep, but she had woken up and come down stairs. She pressed her fingers into her eyes, but there was no time for shock, she had to get upstairs and into bed before the grown ups came back inside.

She walked as fast as she could without making any obvious noises that might alert her mom or Sam or Sydney that she had heard what Reagan had said.

Up the stairs, into her bedroom, into bed.

She wasn't thinking clearly. She lay in bed, eyes jammed shut, and tried not to hear Reagan's words in her head. Over and over and over.

It was only later that she realised that she was shaking.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	27. Chapter 27

Her mom had scheduled her for a doctor's appointment. It was Monday. She was at school. Reagan was not. She would be leaving school early, right after lunch, for her doctor's appointment.

* * *

Persephone ran a hand through her hair. She could not believe she was hearing this. She knew Reagan. At least she thought she had, until today.

He would need to see another doctor, Parker told her. She was too close to do it herself.

Persephone nodded. So long as it was Dr. Green.

* * *

Reagan sat with his arms folded on the desk, head rested on his arms.

Sydney spent an hour talking to him before he gave up and wrote out a prescription.

* * *

Children's drawings adorned the lime green walls of Reagan's room.

Sydney had telephoned Persephone and she'd given him permission to go right on down. He'd had to find his own way there, but once he'd found the right corridor, it hadn't been hard to figure out which room was Reagan's. The frosted glass door with the word _Reagan's_ the only part entirely see-through made things easier.

The door required a swipe card or else an override code. Persephone had issued Sydney a temporary swipe card. Any time he wanted, he could just go on down and talk for as long as he liked. The door slid open automatically with the swipe card.

The bed was a deluge of stuffed things. Sydney spied a kangaroo among the mass of toys, a platypus, a plush Bee Movie promotional character, even a palm tree.

He side stepped a blanketed construction made out of several plastic chairs, a sheet, and some cushions, and cast his eyes around the room, searching for Reagan. He had been around the entire room, looked under the bed, and in the storage space, when his eyes came back to the makeshift tent, where Reagan had, of course, hidden, and was now asleep.

It did not seem like a normal 16-year-old thing to do, though Sydney was fairly certain that Reagan was in no measure a normal 16-year-old.

Sydney had a look around the room again, looked at all of the pictures, and left.

* * *

Indiana was scared the doctor would find out why her period had stopped and tell her mother, but she had to be brave, and if she was truthful, she realised that it was something a mother needed to know about her daughter. She wanted her mother to know, she wanted her to know so much, but she was so scared.

Once her mom found out, she had no idea what would happen next.

The doctor must have rung her mother on Wednesday and told her because her mother picked her up from school, right in the middle of a science experiment, and they went to McDonald's. Indiana didn't speak, she had to wait for her mom to do that first, but her mom didn't seem to want to do anything but drink coffee.

"What are we going to do?" Indiana heard her mother say finally, and the resolve Indiana had been relying on up until this point dissolved and she started to cry.

* * *

It was too late to do anything else but sit it out and wait, Parker told Sydney. Indiana was asleep in her bedroom upstairs.

Sydney reached across and touched Parker's hand. They would make it through this together, and whatever happened, they'd be there to support Indiana.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	28. Chapter 28

**2018**

Thelma's was an all-you-can-eat restaurant. Indiana had never actually been inside before, but she had seen it from the outside plenty of times, and tonight Kirk was taking her there for dinner. She would meet Scarlett, Avalon and River there. She was very excited. Scarlett was bringing Rick. Avalon and River didn't have dates, though Scarlett was dying to fix Avalon up with someone.

Valor was asleep, her nanny reading a Dolly magazine. "Hot date?" the nanny asked Indiana on her way out, popping her gum loudly.

Indiana couldn't help it. She grinned.

The nanny smiled, winking at her. She wouldn't have minded a date herself, but she was stuck babysitting instead. Still, she didn't mind the kid so much. "Good luck!" she encouraged, peering past her and out the front door at the car that had just pulled up.

* * *

At the sight of her two best friends, Indiana ran the short distance to the register where Scarlett, Avalon, River and Rick were already waiting, and threw her arms around Scarlett and Avalon in a hug.

Scarlett grinned and Avalon sighed.

"River," Indiana acknowledged the older girl.

River nodded.

"Hi, Rick," Indiana said to Scarlett's boyfriend.

Rick grinned. "Indiana!"

After paying, they were directed to a table with a seating for six, and then they were free to have a look around and serve themselves as much of whatever they wanted. Drinks were paid for separately as they cost on top.

Indiana took a seat beside Kirk and shifted her chair a little closer to his. If he noticed, he didn't say anything. Across from her, Scarlett definitely noticed and kicked her gently under the table.

Scarlett was delegated responsible for the conversation, and they spent dinner talking about their classmates and who was dating who.

"He's cute," Scarlett told Indiana later, when the four girls took a trip to the bathroom. "You should definitely keep him."

Indiana smiled, and then the two girls turned to Avalon.

"He's fine," Avalon said.

Scarlett stared at her, appalled. Only fine!

"He seems quite nice," River said.

Scarlett looked at her and frowned. Nobody cared what she thought! And beside, it wasn't as though anyone had asked her what she thought.

Avalon stared at the floor determinately, and Indiana pretended to be busy touching up her lip gloss. The moment passed.

Scarlett turned back to her two friends as though the interruption had never happened.

* * *

Kirk scowled. All evening, the cleaner had been acting funny. He hadn't even looked at them when he came to collect their used plates and cutlery and glasses. But then Kirk had noticed how he would stare at Indiana when she wasn't looking. The guy gave him the creeps.

He had just finished wiping down one of the tables and was looking around, as though hoping to catch sight of Indiana.

* * *

"Well?" Scarlett pressed.

Indiana laughed, planting her hand on the door and pushing it open. Well, she did like Kirk, and she thought that Kirk liked her. Yes, Kirk liked her. Her smile widened. He liked her.

She stepped out of the bathroom, her eyes searching for Kirk. He was standing with Rick and a young man, having abandoned the table now.

"He's fine," Scarlett breathed teasingly from behind her.

_Just fine_, Indiana thought with a smile. Oh God! She was smiling like an idiot, she just knew it. _No, stop it!_ she told herself silently, making her way toward Kirk and Rick.

"YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT, MATE!" Kirk yelled suddenly, lunging for the young man.

Indiana felt the wave of anger and she found herself running. "Rick!" she shouted, imploring Rick to do something.

"Indiana!" Scarlett warned.

It was then that Indiana saw who the young man was. She hesitated for one second, but when she acted, she wasn't thinking about Reagan, she was thinking about Kirk. She ran to Kirk and threw her arms around him from behind. "Leave him!" she breathed, attempting to hold him back.

Kirk froze.

In front of him, Reagan shook his head, bruise reddening on his face.

"What are you doing here?" Indiana found herself hissing as Reagan stalked stiffly past.

He met her eyes for just a second. "I work here," he ground, and then he was gone.

Indiana felt the breath leave her body, though she couldn't remember having held it, and realised that she was holding Kirk much too tightly.

* * *

Apart from the first "I'm fine", Indiana did not talk on the drive home. She knew that Scarlett would probably wait half an hour and then ring her, but she really didn't feel up to talking.

Reagan had been wearing a dark-coloured apron, she recalled. He might have been a cleaner. She tried to remember, but she could not recall having seen him, and then she remembered the person she hadn't paid too much attention to at the time – had it been a he? – who had come to collect their dishes.

He'd come to their table twice, first after dinner, and then dessert. She hadn't even given him a second glance.

She could see it so clearly now. God, she must have seen him out of the corner of her eye more than a dozen times. She was certain now, he was the only cleaner on shift. But her attention had been focused wholly on Kirk.

"I'll just drop you off and go," Kirk was saying.

Indiana saw that they had come to her house. She heard the rejection in Kirk's voice, the coldness for the coldness he thought he had received from her. She reached out a hand and touched his arm. "No," she heard herself say. "I'm with you tonight."

Kirk frowned, but not for long.

She watched her house disappear again.

* * *

Reagan banged his head on the side of his car. He was so stupid!

He got in the car and drove. At least she had seemed fine, he thought, and then mentally kicked himself.

Yeah, right up until she'd realised that he was there too.

* * *

It was different with Kirk. Indiana could not believe she was thinking about that – her _rape_! – now, whilst she was with Kirk, but she was. Everything about it disgusted her. Not Kirk. He did not disgust her. She disgusted her. How she could even be comparing the two events disgusted her!

Kirk felt so good inside of her. She felt so good.

Reagan had been careful. He'd wanted her to be comfortable. Indiana gasped. She could not believe she'd just thought that! Why was she still thinking about _him_? _He was scared you'd do something_, she told herself angrily. _Scream, or struggle. He wasn't sure how much the alcohol was clouding your judgement. Of course he was careful!_ He'd kissed her. He'd been so gentle. She realised with a start that it had probably been his first time too. He'd saved himself especially for her. Indiana moaned, her hands pushing at Kirk. "No! No! I think I'm gonna be sick."

* * *

She sat in the bathroom alone, her knees drawn up to her burning chest. Kirk had just sat there. He hadn't even looked at her as she'd run out of the room, and he hadn't come to see how she was.

Indiana felt tears burning behind her eyes. She started to shiver. She sat there for a long time, shivering, and remembered how Reagan had kissed her, or touched her. She didn't want to remember. How could she possibly _want_ to remember something like that!

A fresh wave of sickness enveloped her. But she wasn't going to let herself throw up one more time! She pushed herself to her feet. She was through with gentle! She wanted no more to do with gentle from now on!

* * *

"Oh my god!" Scarlett cried in a whisper, shutting her bedroom door behind her. There was only one reason Indiana was here, because she'd been too afraid to go home so late. That meant she had been out. Out with Kirk, say? "You did it, didn't you?" Scarlett gasped, blocking her way to the bed.

Indiana side stepped her and threw herself onto the mattress.

"So, what is it like?" Scarlett asked, lying down beside her. It _was_ her bed.

Indiana stared up at the ceiling. She slowly shifted her gaze across to Scarlett. "I want to see him again," she told the other girl.

Scarlett sighed wistfully.

Indiana moaned. "God, Scar, I can't stop thinking about him!"

Scarlett stared at her wide-eyed.

"The whole time Kirk and I were-" Her eyes filled with water.

Scarlett gaped. Oh god! Oh god! Indiana wasn't talking about Kirk anymore! "Oh god!" Scarlett cried, tears welling in her own eyes. She was so pathetic! She wished she could kick herself. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Indiana. "God, I'm sorry!" she cried, tears wetting her cheeks. Indiana's tears wet her pyjama top, but she didn't care anymore.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	29. Chapter 29

Indiana, Scarlett and Avalon hadn't noticed Reagan, but River had. He'd done something to his hair, darkened it, because it had no longer been red. It had taken a long time for her to finally recognise him, but she had. She didn't know why the other girls hated him so much, but she didn't hate him at all. She had wanted to tell him so badly. She had wanted to stay and ask him if he was okay, but she had had no other way of getting home but with her younger sister, so she had gone.

She'd been sitting in Math class two days later, unable to concentrate, and that's when she'd gotten the idea. And now here she was, standing in the parking lot of Thelma's, and staring at Reagan's car. She needed to know why her sister and her friends hated him so much. She was going to ask.

She was wagging school, and she'd had to use most of her pocket money to get inside, even though she wasn't hungry, but she was being brave. Right now, she stood in front of the fried food selection, piling prawn crackers onto her plate. She walked back to the small table that had been pointed out to her, feeling like a sore thumb in her school uniform, and placed her plate down on the table.

"I don't usually work the lunch hour," a voice breathed close to her ear, startling her and causing her to freeze. She could feel his chest against her back. Her stomach plunged, just like before, when he had whispered in her ear, his breath causing her hair to brush against her ear. She could feel her face grow red, and her breast beneath her school dress and sweater. "What are you doing here?" Reagan questioned accusingly. "Aren't you supposed to be at school or something?"

"I snuck out," River explained, keeping her voice low so that he wouldn't hear the wobble.

She felt a hand on her arm suddenly and Reagan jerked her around to face him. They were standing very close together now. He was taller than her, and his eyes were very blue. "I'm taking you back," she heard him say.

"What?" she yelped.

"You heard me," Reagan responded, reaching past her and gathering up a handful of the prawn crackers. "Just…" He made a face, shoving the crackers at her. "Take these." His eyes darted away. "With me," he barked, striding away.

River followed hesitantly, pooling her prawn crackers in her school sweater. She was sure she wasn't allowed to take food out of the restaurant, but Reagan led her out of an employee-only door. "I-I came here to ask you something," River explained, hurrying forward to catch up with him. He was walking very fast.

"Stop talking. Keep walking," Reagan ordered.

River frowned.

They came out into the parking lot. Reagan headed straight for his car, and unlocked the driver's side front door. River stared at him. Why wasn't he getting in?

"Get in the car!" Reagan barked.

River supposed he was waiting for her to climb in first. Maybe the other door didn't work or something. She moved past him and climbed inside as best she could, trying not to crush her crackers, and manoeuvred herself into the right side front seat.

She heard the car door slam loudly. "Seatbelt!" Reagan reminded her harshly.

She winced, releasing the hem of her sweater carefully, and reached across for the belt.

Reagan didn't wait. He started the engine and reversed the car out of the parking space.

* * *

"Does it still hurt?" she asked, glancing around at him and visually examining his face. The bruise had gone brown.

Reagan ignored this and continued watching the road.

River was about to ask again, when the car came to a jarring standstill in front of somebody's house half a block short of her high school, half on the footpath.

"Get out," Reagan told her, turning and fixing her with a look that fairly well said the same thing.

"I'm not going until I've asked what I came to ask!" River told him loudly.

"Then ask!" Reagan scolded.

River winced. "Stop talking to me like that first!" she scolded back.

Reagan shrugged. "It doesn't work that way," he told her indifferently. "Ask!"

"Why do Avalon and Scarlett and Indiana hate you so much?" River asked directly.

"I raped Indiana when she was 14," he answered blankly. "Get out!"

River jumped, terrified, pulling at the doorhandle frantically. She needed to get out, and screw the prawn crackers. Pushing the door open, she shot out of the car, not bothering to close the car door behind her. She heard the sound of a car door slam shut and Reagan turning his car around and driving away, but she wouldn't turn and look.

* * *

River wasn't sure she could go through with it, but she had to at least try. She could see Indiana, Scarlett and her sister, Avalon, standing out the front of the school, but she had only managed to walk a short distance because she kept pausing and having to stop herself from turning back. "I need to talk to you about something," she finally said, reaching the small group.

Scarlett turned her face and looked at her with a bored expression. "Piss off, River," she told her plainly.

River couldn't talk. She turned and ran.

* * *

River knew that it was a crazy, _stupid_ thing to do, but she was so miserable she just didn't care. Reagan would see her sitting in the restaurant again – she was at a different table this time – and he would probably stalk over and start yelling at her in a whisper, but she had decided that she wasn't going to move. She would just ignore him.

She saw Reagan a couple of times but he seemed to be ignoring her. Though she wasn't going to admit it – even to herself – this annoyed her. She had used up all her pocket money to get in here, she reasoned, getting to her feet, so she might as well eat something. Plus, she probably wasn't going to get dinner (for about a month). She headed off to get some more prawn crackers.

* * *

She sat in the bathroom, feeling miserable and sick. She had eaten too much. She was going to be in so much trouble. She stood on unsteady legs and made her way out of the bathroom and then outside, and plonked herself down on the footpath, her school shoes resting in the gutter. She felt really sick. She didn't even know why she'd eaten so much, because it certainly wasn't the food. The food was okay, but that was it.

She had almost dozed off when she heard someone talking, though she seemed to have missed out on most of what had been said.

"…friendly neighbourhood stalker," the young man commented.

River jolted awake, fully alert now, her suspicions confirmed as she laid eyes on the young man.

Reagan chuckled.

River stood up, her backside uncomfortably numb. She stomped right up to him and raised her hand.

Reagan caught her wrist before she had the chance to slap him.

River glared.

Reagan smiled, and then he did something unexpected. He kissed her.

River pushed herself away from him disgustedly, spraining her ankle in the gutter in the process.

"You know you want me!" Reagan said, seemingly amused by the whole thing.

"You're disgusting!" River spat.

Reagan laughed again, looking her up and down as though checking her out for potential.

River stumbled backward, her ankle twinging in protest.

Reagan marched away.

River felt her heart beating in her chest. She'd hurt her ankle, it was never going to allow her to walk very far, and she was out of money. She had no way of getting home. Tears of pain and uselessness filled her eyes. "Wait!"

Reagan swung around to face her. Clearly he had been expecting her to fold.

She hated herself for even thinking it but she really had no choice. "One hour," she said. "But you have to take me home after."

Reagan grinned. "Done!"

River felt like she was going to be sick. She turned her face away from him when Reagan came striding back over, but instead of kissing her, he lifted her easily into his arms, carrying her to the car. River didn't know which was worse.

Thankfully, he dumped her back on her feet to open the car door. For about half a second, River actually considered running. He would easily catch up to her, she realised, made all the more easier by her sprained ankle. She climbed into the car, resigning to accept her fate.

* * *

"Go," Reagan told her tiredly, not bothering to even look around at her.

He had pulled up at the end of her street and River could just make out her house through the darkened windscreen. She frowned.

"Go!" Reagan growled, turning and glaring at her now.

River didn't shift. Instead she reached down and pulled at the hem of her school dress, inching the skirt up past her knees to reveal a small part of her thighs. She didn't want to owe Reagan anything.

Reagan's eyes darkened in anger, and he leant over and yanked her dress down again, startling her. "Get out!" he yelled at her.

River blinked back tears. He wasn't making this any easier for her. "I don't care if you pretend I'm her," she said in a wavering voice.

Reagan laughed.

River reached out and grabbed his hand, tears sliding down her face. She planted his hand on her leg and determinately met his eyes.

"You have to talk like her," Reagan whispered finally, shifting over so that he was closer, and squeezing her leg.

River nodded silently, swallowing the lump in her throat. She hated herself for doing this.

* * *

"Get off me!" River spat. She'd been keeping time and that was an hour. She never had to call him Jonathan one more time or have him kiss her again! When he'd gotten off her, she pulled her dress down quickly, and decided that she was not going to bother looking for her underwear. She was getting the hell out of his car and going home! What her mom would do to her when she got there was the farthest thing from her mind right now.

Pulling on the handle, she kicked the door open and jumped out of the car, her legs shaking. It was cold outside now, and she crossed her arms tightly across her chest. She did not once look back.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	30. Chapter 30

River sucked in a breath. She played the clarinet, which she had been practising a moment ago. She had History in 15 minutes, though, so she had to get ready for class. Thinking about it now, she didn't know why she'd chosen to take History. She hated History.

She packed away her clarinet and walked back to her locker to drop off her clarinet and collect her History folder, textbook, and pencil case.

Avalon had gone to Scarlett's for the night, and though her mom had spent an entire hour yelling at her, River supposed she had something to be thankful for that Avalon hadn't been there to hear it.

History was boring today, more so than usual even, and River found her concentration slipping. She was flooded with memories of last night. An ache rose in her chest, and in between her legs. She tried not to think about it, but it wouldn't go away, and finally she took one of her hands from the desk – the one not holding a biro – and pressed it there hard. She didn't mean to, but she kind of closed her eyes and made a low moaning sound. Her eyes shot open in horror as soon as she knew she'd done it.

A girl was staring at her weirdly.

"I think I ate something funny," River covered quickly, and moaned in mock discomfort.

The girl looked away from her quickly and tried to pretend she had never looked.

River stamped her hand over her lower intestines and tried to look in slight pain.

* * *

After school, River went straight up to her room and lay down in bed. She was grounded anyway. She lay in bed for half an hour, unsuccessfully willing herself to fall asleep, until finally admitting defeat. She sat up, annoyed, and then she remembered her sprained ankle. She turned her ankle this way, and then that way, but it seemed to be fine now. She puffed out her chest. She was completely bored now. She flopped back onto her bed.

God, she had been so embarrassed when that girl had stared at her like that! Staring up at the ceiling, she pressed a hand between her legs experimentally. She didn't know what had gotten into her! She gasped. Her eyes widened in horror. _Oh god!_ She had a sudden image of Sex Ed. The boys in the back of the class had made disgusting jokes. _Oh god!_ This was what they meant when they talked about awakening sexualities, she just knew it.

_Calm down!_ she told herself. Sexuality was entirely normal. _Yeah, that's what they all say, but they say it in just the right way so you know that they don't believe a word of what they're saying_, she reminded herself.

She took a huge breath. _Calm_, she reminded herself. "I am calm!" she hissed. She was not calm.

She was not going to freak out, she told herself sternly, and reached a hand up to her breast and gave it an experimental squeeze. It was her body after all. She was fine touching it however she liked. And it was fine. She tried the other breast. _Perfectly fine._

Her arms? She ran her hands along opposite arms. Fine! She sat up. Her feet? A bit tickly – she giggled – but fine. Her legs? Starting at her ankles, she ran her hands upward along the length of her legs. Her legs-s… She shivered. Not fine!

_Doomed!_ She fell back on the mattress and gazed up at the ceiling. She remembered her mother yelling, and yelling, and it suddenly dawned on her. Just what the hell had she been thinking?

She imagined that she was stark raving mad. She might have looked and acted like a perfectly ordinary teenage girl, but really, she was stark raving mad, because subconsciously, it hadn't distanced her from him when Reagan had told her what he had done to Indiana, it had only made her want him more.

She jammed her pillow over her face. She didn't want to be stark raving mad!

_Sexual arousal can be achieved purely singularly_, she thought in a school nurse voice. She moaned. She felt sick. Her chest heaved horribly.

Okay, so maybe if she did this now, she could stop thinking about that less, she theorised. "Sexuality is normal," she forced herself to say. "Sexuality is normal. Sexuality is normal." She touched herself hesitantly between her legs. "Mmm…" The moaning definitely had to go! _The moaning stays_, a part of her disagreed, channelling the school nurse. _The instance you start bottling things up, they become unhealthy or explode._ "They do not!" River cried, gasping out loud. She moaned, mostly because she was sure the entire street had heard that.

* * *

"River's making strange noises," Avalon told Scarlett over the phone. "I think she might be trying to amputate her tail."

Scarlett snorted.

Avalon shook herself, locking her bedroom door behind her. She'd give the blood and gore a pass for now. "So? How's Rick?" she asked, throwing herself back onto her bed.

* * *

The day her grounding ended, River packed her History folder and pencil case into her school bag and walked down the hall to tell her mother that she was walking to the public library to practise for a History test with a group of girls from class. This was, of course, a total lie. Everyone knew River didn't have friends.

As she walked, River wondered what it would be like to be included in a study group. It would be like a kind of club, she supposed. She'd never been considered a part of any club before. She doubted that her classmates, if pressed, would even know her name.

She hadn't thought that she had really been walking with any set direction, but now she saw that she was standing in Thelma's parking lot.

God, couldn't she control herself? She was so mad at herself right now. If she could have screamed at herself without sounding stark raving mad, she would have. She knew she should walk (run!) away but her legs weren't listening to her. Before she could do anything more, Reagan walked around the side of the building. River's legs chose that moment to melt into a pool at her feet.

Reagan was humming _Werewolves of London_ loudly (and badly). River didn't notice at first, but then she noticed how shiny Reagan's eyes were and how fast he was walking. "Jonathan!" she heard herself call.

Reagan paused and his wet eyes met hers.

Her legs suddenly decided to start working again and she found herself running.

For a moment she thought Reagan was going to laugh, he was trying to smile so hard, but then he started to cry. River was afraid to say anything in case he shouted at her for not being Indiana, and then it occurred to her that he might do more than shout. She took an involuntary step backward, away from Reagan.

As if in response to her movement, Reagan turned unsteadily and wrapped his arms tightly around her as if to stop her from leaving or to support himself.

River could not move, even as his tears wet her hair and slid uncomfortably down the side and front of her neck; each tear a fleeting and strangely liquid caress as it rode the surface of her skin and pooled in the small space between her breasts, held closer together by her bra, and stained the front of her school dress. She could feel when he breathed, Reagan was clutching her that close, the warmth of his body burning into her flesh through two sets of clothes. An uncomfortable stickiness had formed between her legs despite her fear and confusion and panic.

Recently, she'd found herself thinking about Rick a little too much considering he was her younger sister's friend's boyfriend. She wished it were Rick holding her instead of Reagan.

* * *

When she could take no more – the continual crying was going to send her mad – and finally managing to extricate one hand and then the other, River planted her mouth over Reagan's.

The sobbing, hitching noises ceased immediately, but she might as well have been kissing a coma patient for all the response she got. Tears continued to slide noiselessly down Reagan's face.

River started to cry too, her legs offering all the support of agar. She held tightly to Reagan, scared that if she let go she would collapse to the ground and crack her skull open on the bitumen.

So there they were, the two of them, standing in the middle of the parking lot, crying and holding each other. River might have laughed under any other circumstance.

* * *

River groaned as the tears dried on her skin, replaced by beads of sweat and a soreness from kisses bestowed. She imagined her brain receiving all the little whizzing messages that instructed one of the glands of her brain to produce a chemical and send it out to the rest of her body with a message of pleasure and goodwill, and god, like an addict, she needed more!

It took all of her willpower to focus on the other person in the motel room with her.

Reagan's cheeks and chin glistened with salty tears and his eyes had a falsely glassy appearance to them, fresh tears forming as River watched.

She gasped urgently, and Reagan's eyes were drawn to her own. She smiled.

Reagan lowered his face to hers.

River turned her face away sharply, causing Reagan to pause in his task of kissing her. Once she was sure she had his undivided attention, she reached up and pressed a finger to his wet lips. It was her turn to administer the kissing for a while.

Slowly removing her finger, she replaced it with her mouth. He had enough to be getting on with convincing her brain to make her more happy chemical.

* * *

River blinked and it all came back to her. She opened her eyes.

Reagan was staring right at her.

She felt a tinge of heat in her face and back.

"You passed out," Reagan told her plainly, "so I let you rest."

River turned red. She propped herself up on an elbow, ignoring her embarrassment entirely as though this would somehow make it magically disappear, and sat.

Reagan watched her leap off the mattress, bending over to retrieve as much of her clothes as she could find as quickly as she could. He smiled.

* * *

River cursed herself over and over in her head. God, she was going to be grounded for life after this!

"River?"

River paused in her all-important task. She was River, not Indiana? She straightened and now she could see that Reagan was smiling.

"Here." He passed her the pair of underwear she had been feverishly searching for.

Her face grew red instantly and she wanted to pass out all over again.

* * *

She found herself, once again, walking toward her house, the sound of a car departing at her back, her awaiting fate never so far from her mind. All she could think was how embarrassed she was, and how extremely lame her underwear were.

* * *

So, she'd done it again! Despite everything, she had let herself fall for him again.

She was lying in bed – the best bed in the world – and thinking about the next time she would do it all over again. Of course, she was also grounded for four months.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	31. Chapter 31

Sydney stood by the glass. A month ago, Reagan had begun Level 1 Sweeper training with the thought that it would assist him in becoming more disciplined. At the time, Parker had been against the whole idea, and still was as far as Sydney was aware. But ultimately it had been Sydney's call.

Reagan had had his first theoretical assessment today, and Sydney was anxious.

Reagan was not paying attention. He was deliberately being lazy, mucking up. Sydney was tempted to walk in there and take him aside for a talking to, though he knew that Reagan was not the only trainee, and his efforts would be less than appreciated by the trainers.

Sydney could see it already. By the time the training session finished, the way he was going, Reagan would have sustained a concussion, even with the gym mats to dull the impact of falls, and it would be no use Sydney talking to him when he was not coherent.

The sound of raised voices pulled him from his thoughts.

"Sedate me!" Reagan screamed.

_Just the one voice then_, Sydney thought dryly.

* * *

Sydney was standing in front of another sheet of glass, watching another room. This room was much smaller than the last, and the glass appeared like a mirror on the inside.

Sydney had left the room twenty five minutes ago, only to turn around and return, realising that he had forgotten a folder, one which he did not want just anyone picking up and reading. He had meant to collect his folder and leave, but at the sight of the five people in the room, he had stopped. Two of the people were Sweepers, another was a nurse, and the other two were Persephone and Reagan.

Sydney could see Persephone talking to Reagan, trying to get him to take the cardigan that lay on the table in front of him. Reagan was not having a bar of it. He turned his face away and didn't look at her.

Seeing that she was getting nowhere, Persephone changed tack and tried to calm Reagan down to a point where he would be willing to do as she was asking.

All this succeeded in was further upsetting Reagan. He shook his head, drawing away from her.

Persephone swiped the cardigan from the table and thrust it at him. This was the wrong thing to do.

Reagan leapt to his feet, shouting. "I SAID 'NO'!" He picked the chair up and threw it at the wall.

Sydney took a step back from the glass.

Reagan stood very still, chest heaving, and then he started to cry.

"What about Krissy?" Persephone asked. "What do you think she feels? She's in hell! You are possibly the only person who can help her – and you're going to chicken out and refuse!" She ran a hand over her hair in frustration. "I know you don't want to do this – but Krissy wasn't given that choice! She is there right now!" She sighed heavily and turned on the spot. "It's your call."

* * *

Parker looked at Jarod. They were drinking coffee. Parker and Jarod and Ethan. Parker had wanted to see Ethan again, so here they were. Plus, she needed to talk to Jarod about the Canadian eugenics facility. It was completely 100 percent against company policy, of course. Parker was about to speak again when someone pounced on her and hugged her.

"Er… Sorry," a girl's voice said. "He kinda missed Human Training 101."

The young man let go of Parker so that she could see the young woman.

"Sorry," the young woman who looked exactly like Parker said again. She turned a look on the young man and grabbed his arm, yanking him away from Parker. "You made me very worried, Sanford," the young woman admonished him, "and that is very bad!"

Sanford frowned.

The young woman huffed. "He's mute," she explained to Parker. "I think he might be kinda deaf too."

Parker stared at the young woman who looked like her and the young man who looked like Lyle. "Boyfriend and girlfriend?" she asked.

The young woman stared at her for a moment, and then she smiled, slipping an arm around Sanford's back and pulling him closer to her. "Yeah," she replied happily.

Sanford smiled shortly.

The young woman looked at him and frowned suddenly. "When I use the happy voice, you don't stop smiling until I say so!" she whined in a low voice.

Sanford frowned.

The young woman smiled at Parker. "We're just going to go now," she said.

Parker nodded.

The young woman departed, dragging Sanford after her.

Parker frowned.

"We noticed," Ethan said abruptly to Parker, speaking for the table at large.

"Sanford, no!" the young woman howled from across the room.

Sanford stopped beside their table and smiled, holding out a loyalty rewards card with two punch holes in it.

The young woman hurried into view. "Sanford, I collect those!" she told him, upset.

Sanford frowned and turned to the young woman.

She snatched the card off him and stomped off to wait for their coffees. He could just apologise himself!

Sanford made a face, clearly uncomfortable.

"Sanford," Parker said gently. "It's okay. You can go."

Sanford turned and looked at her for a moment.

"It's okay," she repeated.

He turned again in the direction the young woman had gone and sat down on the floor.

Ethan got up out of his chair and walked around to Sanford. "Yeah, we're actually trying to have a private conversation," he told the young man.

"Ethan!" Jarod warned. "Don't touch him. I think he might be autistic or mentally handicapped. Leave him be."

Ethan made a face. Lyle's clone wasn't autistic!

Sanford stood up abruptly, looking at something across the café, and wandered away.

Ethan stomped back to his chair and sat down. Perhaps he should have used 'the happy voice'?

* * *

Sanford screamed. There was a big black line across the floor under the doorway and he wasn't going to walk there because he would trip and fall into the blackness.

Parker glanced around from her table. "We should talk to them," she said to the people at the table.

Ethan was asleep. He'd been sleepy and irritable all day.

Jarod frowned.

"Preferably before they leave," Parker told him.

Jarod looked at her. He didn't think they were going to be leaving very soon the way Sanford was behaving, unless they were told to leave, of course.

"Sanford, you are not going to fall in anything!" the young woman shouted. "There is no hole!"

Sanford didn't believe her.

"If you fall in a hole and die, I won't have anyone to shout at, and I'll go blind!" the young woman told him angrily.

Parker frowned. How exactly not having someone to shout at would cause her to go blind, Parker was not sure.

"Because my hearing and my voice will get better, and whenever something gets that much better than normal, it means something else has to be sacrificed!" the young woman explained. "I like the fact that I can see!"

Parker looked at Jarod. Apparently that was how.

Jarod nodded finally, and the two of them stood and walked to the door.

"Can we go now?" the young woman whined.

"We need to talk!" Parker called out to her, striding over.

The young woman shot around, planting herself in front of Sanford. "I'll scream!" she warned in a deadly voice, her eyes stone.

"We wish you no harm," Jarod told her. "All we want to do is talk."

Parker looked around at him strangely.

"Talk then!" the girl growled, her eyes flashing. She found Sanford's hands at her back and held tight to them, arms by her sides.

"My name is Melanie," Parker told her.

"He's mine," the young woman growled. "You can't have him."

Parker frowned. Who was hers? "I'm not sure-"

The young woman laughed shortly. "Save it!" she scolded, turning swiftly to leave.

Parker stepped forward hastily, reaching out a hand for the younger woman's arm.

Sanford spun around and had her on the floor.

"Everyone down!" he ordered loudly, and that was when Parker noticed the Retrieval Team. She'd led them straight to Jarod! And Ethan!

* * *

Parker barely managed to get out of the café alive, and even then another Sweeper team was bound to be sprinting toward their location right now to meet them.

It was only some three hours later that Parker realised that they had escaped. They were alive. Ethan was alive.

Jarod was driving. The two clones sat quietly, like the rest of the car. Nobody was speaking.

Parker looked at Ethan properly, though aside from a bruise, he had not sustained any further injuries. "Stop the car!" she told Jarod.

The car was stopped.

Parker pulled out her gun and levelled it on Sanford. "Out!"

The young woman grabbed Sanford's hand and pulled him up and out of his seat and the pair exited the car.

Parker followed them out. "Name?" she growled viciously.

"Don't you point that thing at us!" the young woman fired up.

Parker swiftly grabbed a handful of Sanford's hair, pressing the gun to his head. "Now!" she growled.

"Let go of him," the young woman told her, firm but very scared.

"Name first," Parker reminded her, a slight note of glee rearing in her voice.

"I don't have any name!" the young woman spat.

Parker frowned. That wasn't the answer she was looking for.

"Fine!" the young woman shouted. "Beckett!"

Parker smiled. She shoved Sanford back at the young woman, who stepped in front of him quickly. Parker sighed. She'd almost been looking forward to ridding the world of another Lyle.

"If you ever threaten my brother again-!" the young woman shouted.

"He's not your brother," Parker said simply.

The young woman turned away. She took Sanford's hand and they started to walk away.

Parker climbed back into the car.

* * *

"I think Lyle may have a daughter," Parker told Jarod.

Jarod frowned. Why was he only hearing this now? How long exactly had she known about this? He sighed. Fine! He'd give it a try. "Fine," he told her with a quick glance, and then he returned his attention to his search of the Center's Alabama branch. Right now, it was far more important to find this Beckett person.

* * *

Cindy lifted her face from her plate and looked at Sanford, who was staring at her. "So what?" she gritted. "I lied!" She shook her head. Why was she even talking about it? "Eat your food!" she told him, annoyed.

Sanford mumbled something.

"What?" Cindy asked, glancing up from her plate again.

"Kawalski," Sanford repeated.

It was only the second time Cindy had heard him speak. Her grip tightened on the fork in her hand as she realised what Sanford was telling her.

* * *

Sanford had an accent, Cindy realised abruptly, Sanford asleep beside her on the bus. Somehow she'd known that he was younger than her. Two or so years, she supposed. But the accent was something new.

She'd always assumed that Sanford was American, the same as her, but now she wasn't sure. Though he had spoken very few words, she knew that his accent was Filipino.

* * *

Parker would have to tread very carefully from now on. She'd had no choice but to return to Blue Cove. Her daughter and granddaughter were there! She could only hope that word of her transgression did not spread, though she was still confused as to what Alabama had been up to. Jarod belonged to Blue Cove. And other branches tended to be less than friendly when it came to Blue Cove, and certainly had been in the past.

A small part of her chided her for her actions.

Lyle's daughter was none of her concern, it said, and the fact that she may also be Emily's daughter made very little difference. Beside, she had escaped, hadn't she?

There was no reason to believe that she had been recaptured and was not still free. _You would be willing to put your own family in danger for his?_ the voice asked angrily.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	32. Chapter 32

Indiana stared at her mom. Her mom felt like… like… Bobby. Kind of.

Indiana shook herself mentally. They were just stupid feelings, they didn't mean anything and they weren't real!

She went upstairs to her bedroom and sat on her bed, fiddling with the stuffed tractor she had retrieved from under her bed. She didn't understand why she felt so strange sometimes.

"The thing is," she heard herself whisper, "you're an Empath."

Alison felt scared when other people were scared, she thought, and happy when other people were happy. As though she could feel their feelings.

Indiana threw the stuffed tractor away from her with as much force as she could. It hit the wall. It was all so much bullshit!

* * *

River stirred her drink absentmindedly with a straw. She knew that she was probably staring – and staring was rude – but she couldn't help it. Reagan was sitting in Moose and Goose, a juice bar in the Rada Complex, which was a multi-level shopping complex with parking on three sides of it. She had noticed this because she was sitting at a small table in the food court of which Moose and Goose could be called a part of, sipping a Wendy's milkshake.

River wondered if she should go over and say something to him or not, though seeing as she had been invited to go shopping with Avalon and her friends, she supposed it was probably a very bad idea. This did not make it any easier to put out of her mind, however, because now all she could think about was Reagan, Reagan, Reagan!

"I was thinking we could start with…" she heard Scarlett saying, making her way through the maze of tables back to the one River had been saving, but River zoned out the rest. Reagan wasn't where he had been last, she realised. In fact, she couldn't see him anywhere anymore.

Once they had finished their drinks, the three friends marched away, and River followed, lagging behind slightly.

She shifted through a rack of clothes at Matazz in disinterest, and then decided to wander through the rest of the store. A red dress caught her eye and she stopped and stared at it, imagining for a moment that she was wearing it.

"Oh, River, it's lovely, isn't it?" a voice interrupted her thoughts. Beside her, Scarlett sighed wistfully. "It's a pity about the price," she commented. "It's far too expensive." She sighed again before walking away.

River stood there, feeling foolish and greedy and miserable all at the same time. She left without even touching the material.

The next store they visited was Woo-Hoo. River spent the entire time standing around and not looking at anything, and then she walked up to Scarlett and told her that she was going out to find the toilets. Scarlett didn't even say anything to her.

River stood around uselessly in the toilets, feeling as though she wanted to scream or rip her hair, and decided that she needed to go out.

She stepped outside, trying not to think about being crushed to death by an automatic door, when she noticed Reagan sitting on the footpath, shoes on the bitumen, and an almost full clear plastic cup of juice beside him. She walked over as quietly as she could and sat down beside him, picking up his cup of juice so that it wasn't in the way. "Hi," she said softly.

Reagan looked around at her. "Can I just have my juice back?" he asked in annoyance.

River frowned and placed the cup of juice behind her. No, he could not!

Reagan slouched and shook his head. "Whatever," he said, getting to his feet.

River felt a prickling in her eyes. It wasn't her fault she hadn't been allowed out of the house for four months! It was called being grounded! Tears pooled uncomfortably in her eyes. Why did everyone have to treat her like she was some sort of fucking retard?

She finally ended up dropping her face into her hands and crying.

* * *

She lifted her face out of her hands, a splitting headache pounding in her head, and forced herself to her feet. Across the parking lot she could see Reagan sitting in his car, about to leave, and she just starting running.

Reagan was leaving, and she wasn't thinking. She ran out in front of the car.

Reagan slammed the brakes on and stopped the car right before it hit her.

She heard him open the door and storm up to her, but she didn't see because she was staring at the windscreen.

"God damn it, River!" Reagan shouted, taking her arms and pulling her away from the car.

She couldn't listen to him. She started hitting him and punching him, and then she was crying again.

Reagan just stood there. He didn't know what to do.

* * *

River realised that she had stopped crying. Her cheeks felt soggy from crying. Reagan was still standing there. He hadn't moved or gotten in his car and driven away.

River looked at him for a moment and she noticed that he looked different. Apart from the rash on his arm and neck, she supposed he looked like he'd been exercising more.

Reagan frowned, and she suddenly remembered that she had run out in front of his car.

She leant forward and kissed him.

* * *

River was sipping her second milkshake when Avalon stormed over, Scarlett and Indiana behind her.

"Where were you?" her younger sister demanded with a glare in her eye.

"My legs got tired," River lied. "And I was thirsty."

Avalon snatched the milkshake out of her hands and dropped it in the bin. "That's it! We're going!" She stalked off in the direction of the exit.

Scarlett hurried after her. Indiana stood very still for a moment, before following her two friends.

* * *

Indiana turned her wireless earphones up loud and lay back on her bed, listening to her favourite pop/rock/opera band, Gummi Bearz Liv.

She closed her eyes and was transported to the room in her head where Gummi Bearz Liv played over the stereo. She removed her earphones and dropped them on the click clack. "Bobby?" she called cautiously, walking around the room to reacquaint herself with it. She hadn't been back since the coma when she was six. The walls were now a bright white, the floor carpeted in grey.

She sat down on the white click clack without speaking for some time, just thinking things through, and she fell asleep on the click clack.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	33. Chapter 33

Parker was sitting in her office when she heard the evacuation announcement. She heard words like "not a drill", "remain calm", and "orderly fashion" as she swiftly made her way to her office door and stepped out into the hall. And then it was all disorder and confusion.

* * *

Indiana could not focus on Legal Studies. The part of her brain that was responsible for concentration seemed to have abandoned her, halfway between where she was now and somewhere else.

* * *

Parker had glimpsed Paulie earlier, but for the briefest of moments, and she was sure Paulie had not even seen her. Though she was still not sure of the motivations and things were a little sketchy, she knew for certain that a lot of people had already died. Parker was tired and sore and her gun was out of ammunition, which was why she was headed for the munitions store. The way things were, with a rival attacking, she was not likely to be getting any rest soon.

She rounded the corner and met a group of approaching monstrified rival Sweepers.

* * *

She had met up with a man named Michael, a Tower Sweeper, for a while, but they had been separated again. She was badly out-numbered, best count fifteen to one, and she had just run out of bullets. There was nothing to do but run. And run into more rival Sweepers.

She pitched over a still body – too still – and scraped her palms. Pushing herself upright again, she swiped the gun from the man – Sweeper? – and turned it on her attackers.

Out of bullets in her newly acquired weapon, she took a swing at one of the rival Sweepers, silently cursing herself for her Sweeper Level 3 training. Why had she not continued her training, graduated L4 at least!

It was a full minute at least before she realised that she was not dead, and that she was not alone. Her head buzzed loudly. She could not bring herself to move, or even stop staring.

Lyle took her arm and moved.

Overwhelmed, Parker did not fight. It was so still. So quiet.

She hardly realised that she had moved at all, as though her brain was working in energy-saver mode. Then she was being pushed into a small space and the corridor was filling up with bodies again, and the noise was back, fuzzy and cottonwool-like in her ears. It was an elevator, she realised as the doors were shutting. They seemed to take an age to close. Through the slowly closing doors, she could see Lyle doing something, and she could see how different he looked. He scared her. He seemed so alien. She was glad the elevator doors were closing. He would be away from her then.

She watched the rival Sweepers drawing closer, watched Lyle punching who-knew-what into something he was holding that was connected to something that he was not holding, and then he seemed to finish what he was doing. Parker realised that it was too late for him to run, and the elevator doors closed.

* * *

She did not recognise the first face she saw, but then she saw Broots. He had gotten her out, she knew. She realised that she was staring, visually accessing whether he would live or die, and forced herself to turn and answer the attending doctor's questions.

* * *

Paulie just lay there, not moving, in that stupid bed. Right now, Parker hated that bed. She hated the whole room, hated all of the instruments in the room. Paulie shouldn't have been in here. She should have been fine.

Parker should have been there. Should have protected her.

* * *

The next morning, Parker found it painfully hard to listen to Denis's words. She caught snatches of sentences such as "a rival corporation", "details" and "unsure", but in the end she just gave up.

Sydney walked with her after the meeting and they drank coffees. Thankfully, Sydney did not talk.

Sydney accompanied her back to her office. She had to close her eyes in the elevator, the memory of being locked inside one all too fresh, and once the doors opened again, she could not get out of there fast enough.

"They are known as Reapers," Parker spoke finally. The voice that came out of her mouth sounded foreign somehow.

Sydney met her gaze briefly, his expression pained, and then he had passed her and the door was closing behind him.

Parker did not turn, and then she scrunched her face up. She would not cry. Not this time.

* * *

Paulie had been injected with a serum, and now the serum was killing her. Cox could not hope to understand it, that was not his specialty, yet he knew that in time: Paulie would die.

Cox had been called down to one of the labs by a lab tech running pathology on the samples he had taken from Paulie. Following this call, Cox had made a call of his own, extended that invitation Parker and Sydney.

"What have we got, Baby?" Cox asked the lab tech as he stepped into the lab, Parker and Sydney behind him.

Parker made a face, disarmed by the term of endearment Cox had bestowed upon another human being, until she realised that Baby was Baby's name.

"Components of it are definitely mechanical in nature," Baby reported, turning to face the new arrivals and speaking as the voice for her GenOp team of fourteen other lab techs. "We think-" Here she paused. "Doctor, we think they-" She dropped her eyes to the floor. "We think they meant for the patient to be a test dummy, the people who injected her with the serum… except, she's not a dummy at all. She's a living being." Baby lifted her face. "It's horrible, doctor," she told him.

Cox frowned. "It is science," he replied matter-of-factly, a hard edge to his voice.

Sydney gripped Parker's arm, sensing her anger and unease. Had he not, she was sure she would have taken a swing at Cox right there. That 'patient' was her twin sister!

* * *

Parker slammed the cubicle door. Then she screamed and smashed the mirror with her gun. There was nothing she could do for Paulie! Nothing!

* * *

Cox swore.

Four of his lab techs were dead, and all because of that bloody serum!

Paulie had been moved to Isolation following the discovery of the cause of death of the lab techs. As far as they knew, the serum could only kill by contact with bodily fluids, which was why Paulie had been transferred to Isolation and put under immediate quarantine. They could not risk any more accidental infections. That also meant no visitors, and Cox just knew that was going to be trouble.

* * *

Sam stared at the wall behind the toilet cubicles disgustedly, leant against the wall beside the automatic hand drier. Beside him, Cox was staring coldly into the mirror. "It doesn't make sense," he shot, frustrated. "They all died so quickly. As though the serum mutated, somehow became more virulent." He frowned heavily. "We know parts of it are chemical, and parts of it are mechanical… What if it's alive?" He turned to face Cox suddenly.

"No," Cox said blankly. "The others died because they did not possess the anomaly."

* * *

Sam shook his head. "What are you saying?" he shot.

Cox's eyes shifted to meet his. "Baby was wrong. The serum is not a prototype. Not just poison, but monster poison."

Sam stared at the doctor for a long time. Cox could display a disturbing sense of humour at times.

Cox glanced away again. It would not be an easy death.

Sam stared at nothing. The Center did not possess a Reaper.

* * *

When Fulton turned up in Cox's office it was 5 P.M. "Your patient was not injected," she told him as he closed his office door.

Cox spun about abruptly, startled, and glared at the woman.

"It bit her, which was how she became infected. Somehow a- what are we calling them?"

"Reaper," Cox said.

Fulton frowned, and continued: "Somehow a Reaper was administered with the serum, and it bit your patient, effectively transferring the serum to her."

"Through its saliva?" Cox asked, frowning.

"Several of its teeth were smashed, which would have produced quite a lot of bleeding," Fulton explained.

Cox made a face. "Why would they want to kill their own?"

"I don't think they did," Fulton said.

* * *

Cox was taken off Paulie's case a day later and Paulie was handed over to an unnamed Tower doctor. Cox assumed that meant Brown, of whom he was no friend.

Brown had been assigned as Lyle's doctor after Raines, and had also been the Parker family's doctor, as had his father and grandfather before him. Brown drove a Chrysler and lived in an expensive house, though Cox did not know where. He had no family. When it came to friends, Cox knew that he had none of those either.

The former Chairman, Mr. Parker, might have come close to a friend, and Raines had tolerated him, even spoke to him with increasing frequency during his short period as Chairman, though Cox had had no clue as to what had actually been spoken as he did not speak whatever language Brown and Raines had been speaking – _Welsh_, he reminded himself, Lyle had said that it was Welsh – though Brown also spoke English.

He supposed he should have been glad it was Brown, someone he was familiar with at least, someone with whom he might be able to take an educated guess at their actions.

He was no great friend of Paulie's either for that matter, though as a doctor he did what he could.

* * *

"I am no longer Paulie's doctor," Cox told Parker calmly, despite her having him backed up against the wall. "I assume that she was assigned a Tower doctor, but the Chairman does not exactly consult with Med Space Director on these matters."

Parker laughed. "The Director of Med Space would have no cause to tell you had she!"

Cox frowned. "I am the Director of Med Space," he reminded her carefully.

Parker narrowed her eyes nastily and stalked out.

Cox sighed, stepping away from the wall. He had been Med Space Director for sixteen years. Knowing that he was going to regret it, he strode to the door and pulled it open, sprinting out into the corridor after Parker. "Miss Parker," he called.

* * *

"Paulie was infected with a serum designed to kill Reapers," Cox explained. "I did not think that she would recover, and nor do I think that the Tower will be able to do any more for her."

Parker glared at him, but she did not speak. "There are Tower Healers!" she told him roughly, after some moments of thought.

"There are stories of Tower Healers," Cox corrected her. He had never met one, nor had anyone he knew. He was willing to bet that Parker hadn't either. He sighed. "I do not think, were that opportunity to presents itself, that a Tower Healer, nor any Healer, would be able to do much for Paulie. The serum kills Reapers, Miss Parker. Reapers can heal themselves, yet we know that this serum kills them. That said, I do not believe that a Healer would have much luck helping Paulie."

Parker looked away from him. "How did it happen?"

"She was bitten," Cox answered.

Parker turned her face suddenly. "The amount that she was infected with was low then?"

"After this much time, the amount of serum she was infected with matters very little," Cox told her. "It has already made more."

Parker glared at him. He could not know that! He was no longer Paulie's doctor!

Cox frowned. "It is somehow able to attach itself to the correct pathways and is replicated." It felt strange to be explaining this to Parker when Lyle could have gone on and on about it, T-Corp technology. Cox shot out of his chair and ran to the telephone, suddenly finding that he could not recall Brown's number, or even his extension.

Parker had stood up also.

"Brown's extension," Cox asked hurriedly. "Do you know it?"

"No," Parker replied. What was he going to do, ring Brown and ask him how Paulie was doing! She wanted to laugh.

"If they attempt to have a Healer Heal Paulie they will kill the Healer," Cox rambled. "Reaper and Healer expressions are sufficiently related."

Parker frowned. Cox needed to calm down.

Cox took a deep breath.

"Sydney may know Brown's extension," Parker told him, approaching the desk to dial Sydney's extension on the telephone.

Cox nodded quickly.

"It's Parker," Parker replied back to Sydney's customary answer. "If you know it, I need you to tell me Dr. Brown's extension. It's important." She frowned, noting the response, and nodded. "Okay. Thank you. I have to make another call." She hung up, and punched in Brown's extension, passing the receiver over to Cox, who was still looking irritable.

She waited until Cox had hung up himself, and then left. She supposed she would need to fill Sydney in on things. And she would need to talk to Broots.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	34. Chapter 34

Indiana turned over in bed, restless. Her mom had told her about how Paulie was sick. Indiana could feel how much it upset her mother, as much as she tried to deny feeling it. Paulie was her aunt, but she was her mother's twin.

Indiana sat up. She couldn't sleep. She sat there, considering whether she should ring Kirk or not. It was very late. She didn't want to wake him up. Though, it would be nice to hear his voice. She frowned suddenly.

The sound came again, though she could not make it out. At first she thought it was a sound from inside the house, and then she realised that it was inside her head. She sat perfectly still, willing it to go away, but it didn't.

* * *

She was standing in front of the door in the room inside her head, terrified. "Who's there?" she asked in a wobbly voice, though she knew that whoever it was had no cause to answer truthfully.

"Help me."

"Bobby?" Indiana said suddenly. But they were no longer friends. She wanted to hit the door, instead she reached out a shaking hand for the door handle. She didn't want to do this, but she needed answers.

She yanked the door open, preparing herself to slap him the moment he got close enough.

* * *

But he was not Bobby. Indiana screamed. She ran as far away from him as she could get, which was the opposite wall. She was not even sure he was human, come to that, except that she had seen him before.

Edging forward again, she stopped at the end of the coffee table, and watched him turn back from closing the door. "What do you want?" she growled.

* * *

Michael had been watching the girl carefully. She should not have been down on the Isolation Ward at all, let alone at 3 A.M. But so far, he had done nothing but watch her. She was standing in front of the door to Dr. Peel's patient's room. She would never be able to get inside, he knew, she did not have the proper clearance level, nor the access code.

The door slid open and the girl stepped calmly inside.

Michael stared for a second, before abandoning his hiding spot and sprinting to the door that was already closing. He had to get her out, it was not safe for her in there.

He managed to make it through the door before it closed. The girl did not seem to have noticed that she had company. Quickly, Michael turned back to the door, and swore. They were locked inside. "Look, Miss…" he tried, but he didn't know what to say. He should have taken her down to Detainment whilst he'd had the chance, he should never have let her get this far, he should have called for back up. All of these thoughts rushed through his head, and then just one. What if she was the enemy?

The girl stopped at the patient's bed.

Michael started to move forward. Right now, he needed to stop her before she did anything more.

The girl reached out a hand.

Michael opened his mouth to tell her that she could not touch the patient, but he never knew if he did or not.

The girl burst into flame.

Or at least that was what he had thought she had done at first. Instead of flame, the girl had burst into a bright ball of light. She was glowing.

Michael could not move. It was only after the glowing had subsided that he realised what the girl had done. She had healed the patient. Michael did not try to stop her from leaving. He did not even say anything to her, and he knew that he would never speak of what he had seen. If he could help it, the Center would never know about the glowing girl.

* * *

Indiana jolted awake. She felt very cold. She sat up and spied her blankets on the floor. That helped, she thought, and then she remembered the door, and Lyle. He was gone now, she could feel that much. She slipped off the mattress.

And if she had any say in the matter, he would stay gone.

* * *

Parker had invited Paulie, Broots and Debbie to Rouge Rouge to celebrate Paulie's miracle recovery. Rouge Rouge was a fairly recent upmarket restaurant.

Indiana did not look entirely pleased, she could have been spending the time with her friends, though she hugged Paulie and told her that she was glad she was better.

* * *

Indiana was seated opposite Debbie, her aunt's stepdaughter. Debbie was thirty-one and a doctor. Indiana wondered if she had a boyfriend.

Broots told a joke and she laughed. Debbie was the only one who didn't laugh.

* * *

Reagan watched the blue water racing down the drain in the shower floor. When he'd finished his shower, he dried himself and got dressed, and walked to the dining hall for dinner, beads of water from his hair wetting his neck.

Persephone did not have a house, instead she was boarded by the Center. Most days she ate dinner in the dining hall.

Persephone noted his dark blue hair, black with wetness.

"Hand drier didn't work," Reagan grumbled disinterestedly as they walked from the table to the counter where the food was served. He wanted to eat and go to bed. He had his first Field assignment in the morning, and he really wasn't hungry, but he was going to force himself to eat, and hopefully the food would help him sleep.

* * *

Paulie couldn't sleep. She was not stupid. She knew that something had happened outside of herself to aid her recovery. What was a little harder to say.

She climbed out of bed as quietly as she could and walked to Anton's room. Anton was ten and fast asleep. She stood there, watching him sleep.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	35. Chapter 35

Jarod frowned, looking through the photographs and albums Margaret had given him.

He'd found a picture of himself as a very small child, but still none of Kyle. He flicked through an album dated before he was born, his father's Air force stuff mainly, wondering why there were no photographs of Kyle.

He paused at a picture of who he had at first thought his mother and father, but though the photograph was black and white, he could tell that the teenage girl was fair haired and not red haired. She was standing beside Charles, who was older, and on the other side of Charles was a young man. Jarod stared at the photograph for a long time.

He knew who the young man was, though it was hard to believe he was standing in the same photo as his father. He flicked through several more pages until he came to one where the teenage girl was some years older and sitting with two small children, one of which Jarod recognised as Annie. The little boy, perhaps a year younger than Annie, he did not recognise. Annie herself was two years at best.

Carefully, he removed the photograph from the album and turned it over. The inscription on the back read: _Edie, Annie & Eg._ Edie could have been Edna, Jarod supposed, a feeling much like dread settling on him. He had to make a choice now. Did he really want to know how his father had known William Raines, or would he just pretend he had never seen the pictures at all?

* * *

Mo, his clone, was sleeping on the sofa when Jarod walked into basement where he often did research. Charles was out. Jarod made his way over to Emily instead.

She was reading through old newspaper cuttings, frowning a bit. She did not seem to notice him, however, and Jarod knocked on the wall.

"Jarod," Emily said.

Jarod smiled a little and passed her the photograph. "I meant to ask dad, but…"

Emily smiled. It was alright. She'd take a look at the photograph for him. She took the picture and glanced down at it. "That's dad's sister," she said, smiling and turning the picture over to read the inscription.

Jarod frowned. He had not been aware that his father had had a sister, let alone that she had been Edna Raines.

Emily handed the photograph back to him. She was still smiling, but it had gone sad.

Jarod wondered how she had known about their aunt. "Do you know Annie or Eg?" he asked.

"No," Emily told him.

Jarod frowned, and opened the album he had been holding and turned so that he could show her a picture. "Do you know who this is, Em?"

"That's William," Emily told him. "Dad and he were in the Air force together. Edie, our aunt, married William."

Jarod nodded. "Emily, do you know William's last name?"

"Raines," Emily replied, watching him with a serious expression. "Jarod…" She sighed. "Don't. Don't ask dad."

Jarod stared at her. "I'm sorry," he told her, though he wasn't sorry. He had to know.

Emily took his free hand in both of her own, beseeching him with her eyes.

"I can't," Jarod told her. "I have to know." Placing the album down, he placed his free hand on her arm. "Let go," he told her calmly.

Emily let go of his hand.

Jarod collected the album and walked away.

* * *

"Those are my things, _my life_!" Jarod could hear his father shouting when he returned from a walk outside. "How bloody dare you hand them to Jarod as though they were nothing more than a sideshow, cheap amusement!"

Margaret laughed. "Well, at least you got one thing right! Cheap amusement was your slutty sister all over!"

Jarod winced at the loud slap. He wanted to run away, run away to Sydney, but he wasn't a boy anymore, and Sydney was too far away.

His mother laughed again, and stormed out of the room.

Jarod backed out of the hallway quickly, but his mother did not come his way, and instead walked the other way.

* * *

Jarod stomped down to the basement where he found Emily crying and Mo watching her. He wanted to yell at Mo for not comforting her and he wanted to yell at Emily too, because what right did she have to be crying! Charles had practically blamed the whole thing on him! Nobody had said anything was Emily's fault!

"Shut up!" Jarod yelled, causing both Mo and Emily to start, but Jarod ignored Mo and stormed right up to Emily and pulled her out of the chair she had been sitting at. "Just shut up!" he told her loudly.

Emily said nothing.

"You think it's funny?" Jarod shouted, shaking her. "Ha, ha! Jarod's an idiot! He thinks he's so clever but he doesn't know the first thing!"

"Jarod," Mo said seriously from behind him.

Jarod laughed. He wasn't going to listen to _a clone_! Mo might have been genetically related, but Charles and Margaret weren't his parents! "You think I'm an idiot, do you, Emily? You think I'm just going to stand around whilst you play traumatised little girl and merrily laugh at me behind my back? WELL I'M NOT!"

"Jarod!" Mo warned.

Jarod ignored him. "You've been playing this little game all along, haven't you, Emily?" He put on a mock whine. "Let's set mommy and daddy up against each other and see how the rest of the family falls apart!" He laughed at her, pretending to be scared, but he wasn't buying it this time. "Haven't you?" he growled.

"Jarod!"

"She can answer for herself," Jarod told him, looking at Emily instead. "That's what she has a mouth for."

Emily didn't speak.

Mo grabbed Jarod's arm.

Jarod shoved him away from him and shook Emily. "Answer the fucking question?" he shouted at her.

"Jarod," Mo said loudly. "Talk to Sydney."

"I don't want to talk to Sydney!" Jarod shouted at him, glaring at him.

Mo held out the cell phone. "Sydney wants to talk to you," he said firmly, having lowered his voice. Mo didn't take his eyes off him until he had taken the cell phone.

Jarod stormed out of the basement.

Mo looked at Emily.

* * *

It was three hours later and Mo and Emily were sitting in the McCafé section of McDonald's, Emily with a black coffee, Mo with a mango frappe. Mo had called Ethan about ten minutes ago, and he was waiting at the McCafé counter for the coffee he had ordered Ethan to be ready so that he could take it back to the table.

Ethan grimaced as he walked past him and sat down beside Emily at the table. Mo could just see them from where he was standing. Ethan put his arms around Emily and only then did she start crying. Mo felt suddenly jealous, and then he felt selfish. "Sir?" a woman said from behind the counter. The coffee was ready.

"Thanks," Mo said to her, and made his way back to the table slowly.

* * *

Following the unsuccessful interrogation of several Reapers, believed to be of T-Corp origin, Denis had assigned an operative to Field. That was the first, and basically only, option. Blue Cove was not by far The Center Corporation's favourite branch, and by this reasoning, Denis thought it best not to stir up too much trouble with the Tower or the Triumvirate, which might just spell liquidation.

* * *

Reagan felt sick. He was sure it was just nerves, but no matter how many times he hummed _99 Red Balloons_, it wouldn't go away. He forced himself to think about his mother, but he only ended up feeling sicker, and then his head started to hurt. He watched the traffic outside the roadhouse and tried not to think about planes at all.

He still had a long way to drive.

* * *

Emily just couldn't stop crying. No matter what Ethan did, she just wouldn't stop crying. Every time she stopped, she started up again. Mo got up and left the table, walked right away so that Ethan couldn't see him. Jarod would have said he was being callous, but Ethan knew why he'd done it, though even that didn't seem to help.

Ethan racked his brains, trying to think of something, anything to say, that might stop her from crying. Then he just sat there, feeling as miserable as Emily looked.

She cried for an hour, and then she stopped.

* * *

Sydney frowned. He'd been midway through a sentence in some report, unable to think about the words, and instead running over and over in his mind his last conversation with Jarod, when he just stopped, and thought about Raines.

It was 1958, though Jarod was not yet born. Raines was nineteen, and newly employed. Jacob was Med Space Director. He did not think much of the young man, and he was fairly certain that his documentation was false, but the Chairman had hired him anyway, and he was assigned special research supervisor and med assistance.

Jacob had of course shared this opinion with his younger brother, though they were twins, and Sydney had not disagreed, though he had not met the man in question and only seen him in passing. He had a young wife who was studying to be a doctor and a small daughter named Clara.

Sydney was on break and was on his way to the dining hall for a coffee and to meet up with two psychiatrist colleagues for a chat, though he paused when he saw Raines and one of the leader of special research projects arguing.

The project leader was a young woman, older than the young man by no more than ten years, and she was glaring back at Raines just as seriously as he was looking at her. Sydney vaguely remembered hearing that she was a geneticist. Raines seemed to want to keep the conversation between just the two of them, but the woman started yelling, and then she turned and stalked away.

Sydney knew now that the woman had been team leader of the research project that had isolated the anomaly by which Pretenders could be identified, though he had not then. The woman had been upset. Raines was trying to take the credit, she'd yelled, when it was hers, but she would not let him get away with it. Then she'd stormed away.

Sydney frowned, straining hard to remember what it had been exactly that Raines had said to her, and it came back to him. He'd advised her not to take her findings to the Tower.

Sydney sat back in his chair. He could see what the woman had been thinking, but on the other hand he could see, that now that he knew that Raines may have possessed the anomaly himself, and his daughter also, why he had not wanted the woman to take such findings to the Tower.

The woman had moved town soon after, and she'd had a son named Jarod, who would later return to Blue Cove where he would stay for a very long time before he eventually escaped.

Sydney remembered Raines standing there, long after the woman was gone, a strange look in his eyes, and suddenly Sydney's chest hurt, because he thought he knew what that look meant. And suddenly, it became so clear to him, the odd little feeling he'd felt, looking at Abel Parker's adoption papers, because they could never be real, they were just a lie, a lie to protect someone someone else had loved, a last lie to make up for everything else they'd ever done or not done, a lie that didn't even matter if they ever found out about it or not because the person who had made it up did not think they would ever be forgiven for all of the other lies that were never done for love of that other person.

The little boy had been crying and screaming, but when he saw the older boy he stopped. Here was his brother. He did not remember the glares, or even the scowls. He loved his brother, and in his mind his brother loved him back. There were others too, and they moved forward, but his brother did not move. It was cold. He shivered. The little boy wanted to go to him and cuddle him. He was cold too. But the others took him away, and he didn't see his brother again for a long, long time.

Sydney stood from his chair and walked to his office door, but he did not pay much attention to these things. He was thinking about how much the little boy had loved his brother, and how much his brother hadn't thought he'd loved the little boy at all.

* * *

Margaret moved out of the house she shared with her family. She met a man named Karl and they spent a lot of time together.

Jarod busied himself in his work with his anti-Center group, and did not talk to Emily or Charles or Mo. He met up with Nia again, and she made him laugh.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	36. Chapter 36

The day Reagan returned from Field his rash was worse than ever. It had spread to almost an entire side of his face, turning it a nasty diseased looking red, raised and scabbed as though it had been scratched, and down to the fingers on his right hand. His eyes simmered uncomfortably and he trembled too much. But he had the Chairman's information.

Persephone was away on conference and could not be there to meet him. Sydney had been tossing up between standing in or not, leaning toward not, but he had decided last minute to go. For a long moment he did not move toward the young man, and then he was professional Sydney again, and he was standing in front of the young man, asking something, and other people were streaming around the pair now, Tower Sweepers and Sweepers, a doctor even.

The Tower Sweepers and Sweepers and doctors took Reagan away, and Sydney was left standing alone, and then Sydney turned and walked away.

* * *

Denis scoffed.

How T-Corp could seriously believe that Blue Cove had stolen their Healer was ridiculous! Beside, Blue Cove had not, which was why Denis was curious to know who had, and why they weren't getting the blame but she was.

She pondered the situation. It was likely that the Healer had been sold without permission to another corporation but, with obvious reason, no one had owned up. As far as she was concerned, T-Corp were a bunch of paranoid savages, who she was not sure could even be classified as being human.

* * *

Rooney frowned at the thing.

It was younger than himself, though not by many years, and male also. He, the thing, had been with an auxiliary branch for some months now, Rooney was informed, being interrogated and tested, though Rooney had found it in detainment, all by itself, and decided that he might speak with it. It was of the corporation who had taken his Chosen away from him, and he fully intended on using more than words.

"OXR-938 informs me that it is Empathic," Penny spoke abruptly from behind him, causing him to turn and face her. "I think that it is scary," Penny continued bluntly, "and I should like to meet it."

Rooney considered his little sister for the span of a moment, but did not speak to object, and Penny smiled, knowing she had won.

They would meet it together, but Rooney would enter before his little sister. As well as three Reapers, one of her personal bodyguards would also accompany them, Rooney decided, choosing ORG-210.

* * *

Of her personal security, Penny liked ORG-210 the least.

He always called her Princess, which annoyed her, and he was a Reaper. She did not like Reapers in general, and the times she disliked them the least was when they did as they were told. Though, she always called ORG-210 Hungry, which she thought moderately made up for his calling her Princess, though not completely.

She did not know his name, nor whether he had been given one, neither did she care to.

* * *

The thing was unwell. It radiated this clearly. Penny thought that it was less that it was projecting the illness in effort to win sympathy than it was simply unable to block her from feeling how unwell it was. It also looked unwell.

Penny moved closer to the thing in order to examine it better, but the feeling of sickness was so strong she had to leave it. She walked out of the room and attempted to stop herself from being sick and screen her senses. It had been so sick, even before it had come to them, before the interrogation. She wanted to go back in to the room, wanted to say something to it, but her legs would not move, they were barely holding her up.

Hungry was there, watching her. Hungry who had raised his voice to her when she had suggested her security detail split into two teams and fight each other because she was bored. Hungry who was not smiling or laughing at her now because she felt sick, but was concerned.

Hungry put his arms around her and held her and she felt simply not as bad.

* * *

Penny sipped her chilled orange blossom tea, sitting at a table in the canteen, but she could not think about tea. She was thinking about Rooney and the unwell thing. Rooney had always been reasonable, though she had teased him for it. But he had changed. He scared her.

Rooney was angry with her for interrupting him. He saw her disturbance as time-wasting, but she had been scared he would damage the thing too much, though now she did not think any more damage that was done to it would matter much.

Childish as it was, she wished Blake had not been taken, and she wished her big brother was still her big brother.

She had never liked Empaths, not since the time she had been 14 and had asked after her Chosen and been told that he would be a Reaper. She hated Reapers. And after that time, she had hated Empaths also, though now her hate had changed into dislike. She hoped Rooney did not kill the thing, for both Rooney's sake and the thing's sake. A small part of her also knew that she hoped this for her own sake also.

She sat there, thinking about the stupid Empath who had told her she would be Chosen to a Reaper who worked for the military, and found herself suddenly laughing out loud.

She pushed herself up from her chair rapidly and walked to the exit. She was not going to wait her whole life for something that would potentially never come, she decided as she walked. She was going to ask her mother today if she could be assigned a breeding partner for the breeding program. She was ready with a speech about duty and all of the things she knew would please her mother, but inside she knew that they would be lies, and she hoped her mother did not figure her out.

Other women, women in films and books and magazines, did the same thing all the time, though they did not necessarily have to bear a child to do so, and they were allowed to choose their partner themselves. Penny did not see why she should not be allowed to do the same. Sex was what had kept the species alive, so why did everyone make out it was so wrong. It was not sex that was wrong, she thought, that was a biological imperative, it was people's minds. Still, she hoped her mother did not partner her with anyone ugly.

* * *

Her mother frowned, listening to her words. Penny was nearing her fourth decade and she was glad the child had come to her with the request to child. She was no longer in her prime, but she was a Healer, and Healers worked differently to others. Penny could have been 70 and still been able to child, or older still.

She nodded once. She would find her daughter a partner.

Penny thanked her and left.

* * *

Penny had spent much time readying herself for the time when she would be called to the breeding chambers, though she knew that she had been distracting herself in a way. She had no way of knowing who or even what her partner would be, though she was felt somehow cheated by this.

Her mother was Hive Queen Zero. Not that there was another boss of the corporation, Penny reflected of the made up title. All the same, she had always felt that when the time to breed came, her mother would take her aside and ask her who she might recommend, or at least give her a choice out of a little magazine or something.

But that had not happened, and time had run out. Penny sat patiently on the single structure to adorn the room, a bed, and waited for the arrival of her breeding partner.

She was jolted suddenly from her thoughts at the sound of a male voice, and realised, much to her annoyance, that she had not heard the door. There was some grumbling, and Penny felt sorely that she had not been ready with an inviting posture, or even a smile. A smile would have been nice.

"Princess!" the familiar voice called across the room, causing Penny's stomach to tumble over and her chest to tighten. She couldn't breathe if she wanted to. "Hey, whatever it was you did, that has nothing to do with me." Penny watched the Reaper turn back to the door. "There's been some sort of mistake," he said loudly. "I don't even know this woman!" No response. He kicked the door. Just great!

"You are to be my breeding partner," Penny told him from the bed, unable to move.

He was still for a moment, thinking over what she had said, before he spun to face her abruptly, looking angry.

She wanted to move to the other side of the bed and hide, but she was frozen.

"You agreed to this?" he asked roughly, a little too loud.

Penny lowered her head. She could see he had neither been told where he was being taken, nor approved of the corporation's methods. She could not help but thinking he did not approve of her either, though she saw no cause for him to.

He let go of his breath heavily, shoulders dropping, and swore nondescriptly.

Penny's eyes prickled with tears she did not want.

"Commandant," ORG-210 spoke suddenly.

"What?" Penny said. She did not know what else to say. She just wanted him to go away so that he wouldn't see her cry.

"My name," Commandant said.

Penny sniffed. He had a name, after all.

"No," Commandant said. "There is no need to cry." He winced, realising that he had sounded insensitive, and tried to correct, but the words did not come.

Penny stared at her legs in confusion, waiting for him to say something.

"Princess?" Commandant said again, much closer this time.

It was a combination of the closeness of his voice and the uncertainty Penny heard in his voice that startled her to look up. Seeing that he had moved closer – a lot closer – she forced down the impulse to run, hide.

Commandant watched her closely, and then he reached out a hand. "Can I touch you?" he asked awkwardly.

Penny could do nothing but nod. She expected him to touch her face, or some other part of her that he might like the looks of better, but not her hand. It scared her a little when he touched her hand. She shivered.

The hand gently holding her own replaced her hand on the bedside apologetically, and Penny found herself standing.

Commandant actually took a step backward, but Penny took hold of both of his hands firmly, and met his gaze. "We are not friends," she said. But for the sake of company policy, her eyes said, she would abide. It was not necessary to the program that they liked or disliked each other.

Commandant nodded, and she saw that he understood.

* * *

Sydney found Parker in her office. It was time for break. He brought coffee. Parker took the mug from him and nodded, thank you.

"The adoption papers are false," Sydney said, watching his own mug of hot coffee steaming.

"What?" Parker asked suddenly.

"The adoption papers for Abel Parker," Sydney elaborated.

"False?" Parker said, frowning. "How do you know?"

Sydney frowned too.

"Did-" Parker made a face. "Was it a message?"

His Inner Sense, Sydney thought. "It is a feeling," he replied.

Parker frowned again, but accepted his answer. "Does that lead to anything? Fake papers…?"

Sydney frowned also. "I think that Raines was experimented on as a child."

Parker laughed. Sydney had not heard her laugh so loudly in a long time. "Yes, that would be convenient," she commented, completely serious, but also completely professional.

Sydney thought of the time she had spent as a lawyer.

"I understand what you are saying and… actually I don't give a damn!"

Sydney stared.

"I wish him all the best in Hell," Parker went on.

"I believe that Raines tried to warn Margaret that her sons may become targets of the Pretender Project," Sydney said.

Parker glared at him. She was not buying what he was selling, if he called that marketing.

"That is, of course, a matter of opinion," Sydney told her.

Parker narrowed her eyes.

"I need to find a DSA," Sydney said finally.

* * *

They had not found the DSA, which might have meant that someone had removed it – Jarod or otherwise – or that they had not spent enough time looking.

Sydney sat in his office for a long time, thinking about Raines and Healers. It was unlike him to take the side of Raines, someone he had disliked for a very long time, but the feeling he had got was so strong he could not ignore it.

He reached out with his mind for Jacob, but Jacob did not respond. Jacob had died some years previous, and Sydney had not been able to sense him since.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	37. Chapter 37

Peel watched the thirty-something who had slipped into a seat opposite him. She wasn't his usual girl. She was older, with a bit of a tan, and dark hair, her eyes big and brown. She wasn't a skinny thing either. She had things he could enjoy squeezing just a little bit harder. He was annoyed, a little upset, but he supposed he would have to make do for the night. He would complain later.

The woman smiled.

"What is your name?" Peel asked.

"Sasha," the woman replied pleasantly. Her accent gave her away as a Canadian, though it was not strong. Her voice was level, calm and not high pitched.

"Jonah," he told her the fake name. He never used his real name. He never took the girls home.

Sasha leant forward and placed a warm hand over his own.

Peel considered the gesture, taking in the improved view of her breasts. "Do you drink coffee?" he asked.

"I do," Sasha replied.

His usual girl drank Jaffa Coke. Peel nodded. He ordered two coffees. Chocolate and macadamia for him and black, no sugar for Sasha. He was surprised she had initiated conversation to tell him how she liked her coffee.

They drank their coffees. Once they had finished, Peel called for a taxi. Sasha stood close to him as they waited on the pavement outside for the taxi. It was coming to that time of year when it got colder. Peel did not tell her off, but he certainly felt she was being a little too friendly of her own accord. He told the girls what to do, and when to do it.

Uncomfortable with the closeness, he put an arm around her back loosely, that way any onlookers might assume she was his daughter and not a whore for hire.

* * *

Sasha was his for one hour. He had only ever hired a girl for an hour. With the coffee and the taxi, that left half an hour.

Peel closed the motel door behind him, hitting the switch for the lights, which blinked on momentarily.

Sasha was smiling at him.

He stepped away from the door. "Go to the bed," he told her.

She walked to the bed and stood, awaiting further instruction.

Peel strode across the room to meet her.

* * *

Sasha's wrists were cable tied to the bed head. Peel liked cable ties. They had that whole abducted thing going on. His girls always told him that they liked them too. Of course, they were being paid to agree, the same way he was paid to agree when he got up in the morning and went to work everyday.

Sasha did not complain about the cable ties. Peel could see that she was thinking about the money. If she complained, there would be no money for her, and there might even be more than just no money.

Peel had his half hour, and then he dressed himself again. The last thing he did before walking out the door was cut the cable ties. No tips. He never paid the girls directly. He didn't trust them.

Then he didn't see Sasha until one week later.

* * *

The next week, Sasha declined coffee. Peel thought about slapping her, but they were in a public place. He could always slap her later, when they were alone together in the motel room. Until then, he would just have to wait. He ordered coffee for her anyway.

Peel watched as the waitress departed, two mugs of coffee now deposited at their table. Across from him, he noted that Sasha had slipped into her seat, returning from the bathroom, and heard her speak. "Must we wait, Jonah?"

Peel was ready with a glare. He had waited all day for this coffee, he was not about to leave now.

Sasha touched his knee under the table, sliding her hand across his inner thigh.

He jerked back in his chair, a nasty scowl across his face.

Sasha took a sip of her coffee, which only reinforced that she was not in a coffee-drinking mood. Fixing her gaze to Peel's, she slipped a hand between her legs and pressed her hand to herself.

Peel's eyes glanced angrily around, but there were no onlookers to Sasha's little show. They sat alone at the back of the coffee lounge in a comfortable booth.

Sasha moaned and Peel's eyes returned to the woman once more.

Sasha dropped the show, perhaps realising that she was getting nowhere, and returned to her coffee. It had been paid for, so she'd might as well drink it.

Peel sat with an angry look on his face for the entire half hour.

* * *

Inside the motel room, he hit her across the face. How dare she embarrass him that way!

Without thinking, she hit him back.

Peel was surprised by her strength. But she controlled herself, did not overdo it. He would have liked nothing more but to hit her back, and keep hitting her. But he didn't. "Get on the fucking bed!" he growled.

Sasha walked to the fucking bed. Fucking was a fairly accurate description of what went on on the fucking bed.

She plomped down on the bed, fully clothed. Peel waited, but she did not budge. Angry, he stormed to the bed.

Sasha looked at him as if to say: if he wanted her undressed, he would just have to fucking undress her himself.

Peel put his hands around her neck and shook her. Not to strangle her, but to scare her. He did not pay her to fuck him around!

Sasha kept her eyes fixed on his.

It was all a fucking game to her! Peel threw her back on the bed and climbed on top of her, hitting her hard across the face. She either played the game his way, or they were finished! In which case he would have a word with her employer.

Sasha looped her legs around his back and pulled him down on her. "Know you're rich," she told him in a singsong voice. "What are you? Lawyer? Used car salesman? Doctor?"

Peel stopped struggling. Perhaps it was her who was finished. One word to his employer and he could have her taken care of. Permanently.

Sasha grinned childishly. "Got you, didn't I?" she cawed, satisfied with herself. She held his gaze for a moment, and then she started to laugh, loosening her hold on him.

He pushed himself up off her hurriedly, and slapped her about the face.

Sasha lifted her arms up and placed them above her head for him to tie her wrists.

Peel slipped off the bed, yanking her unceremoniously off after him. "Take them off, whore!" he barked.

She poked her tongue out at him, stumbling backward with a giggle, and began to undress. Peel did not watch. He strode to the door instead.

* * *

He dragged her after him, completely naked. When they reached the road, he dragged her with him along the side of the road, until a car honked and stopped to whistle at the naked woman.

Peel ran his eyes over the five young men in the car. They had been drinking. He'd seen a couple of them around before. They were L1 Sweepers. He threw them some money. "Take the fucking whore for a spin!" he told them, pushing Sasha after the money. There were several laughs, then Peel watched as the car and Sasha sped away with several loud honks.

* * *

Peel was yanked from his thoughts by the loud honking coming from outside the motel room. There was a knock on the door and then the sound of a thud as though someone had pushed someone else into the door. More honking followed, and then just silence.

Peel crossed to the door. It was Sasha, of course, as naked as ever, and dazed. For some reason she was reciting her times tables.

She stumbled toward him, but he stepped past her and out the door, letting her fall to the floor.

He took her clothes with him and tossed them in a dumpster on his way home.

* * *

Next week, Sasha was back. She drank her coffee and did not speak. It was only until they had reached the motel, door safely shut behind them, that she spoke, begging Peel to forgive her, and Peel stood there, enjoying it.

If he wished it, Sasha said, she would give him an extra hour, free of charge.

Peel wanted to spit in her face and yell at her. Yeah, he'd take an hour free of charge, but not with her! Instead he took her by the hair and walked her to the bed. Then he bound her, and had his hour and a half. Sasha did not make a single sound.

* * *

The week after, he asked for a different girl. Coraline was twenty-four, skeletal and blonde. She drank Sprite. Peel was pleased enough that he tipped her.

The next day, the Chairman rang him up to tell him that Reagan had returned from Field. He got up from his desk and thought about Coraline.

* * *

Sydney frowned at the photograph. In it were three small children: the oldest a girl, next a boy, and the youngest another boy. It was black and white, and on the back it read: _Sarah, James & Abel._

Sydney turned the photograph over again and examined the children more closely. Abel, he guessed, would have been three or four, James six, and Sarah ten.

He frowned. If the photograph was not a fake, then he had been right, the adoption papers were false. There was no other explanation.

Parker had found the photograph among her father's things, and now frowned. If Raines had not been adopted, then what had happened to him to make him no longer a Parker?

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	38. Chapter 38

River dressed up as a cupcake for Halloween. Avalon, Scarlett and Indiana laughed at her. Kirk laughed along with the girls, and even Rick grinned. River wanted to melt into the floor when he did that.

Avalon had dressed up as a nurse, Scarlett was Nancy Drew, and Indiana was Ganos Lal, long-thought-to-be holographic projection and ascended Ancient inhabiting the Atlantis Outpost in the Pegasus Galaxy, also known as Morgan Le Fey, as Scarlett pointed out to a confused Kirk. "Stargate Atlantis, yoo-hoo!"

"Ganos Lal," Kirk repeated. "Cool."

Indiana smiled.

Rick glanced at River but looked away again when she looked at him.

* * *

River trouped around with the others, walking through shops, checking out the sales that were on, eating a hotdog, but she felt alone and awful.

River lagged behind the group, depressed and disinterested, watching Rick's back, when someone grabbed her hand. She shrieked.

For a moment, the others stopped chatting and laughing and paused, but then they just laughed at her and turned away again.

River was frozen, stuck between wanting to run away, and the sound of Rick and the others laughing at her.

When she turned back around, the person who had grabbed her hand was standing with his back to her and River was left wondering who would actually want blue hair.

River shoved him away from her and he stumbled. She had intended to walk away after that, catch up to the others and maybe laugh a bit at her own expense, but then she saw that it was Reagan.

He frowned.

River thought that he might apologise for scaring her, but he didn't say anything, so River said, glancing at the Casper tee shirt he was wearing, "Is that part of your costume?"

Reagan made a face. "Noo."

River noticed the black-painted fingernails, and the horrible rash across one side of his face and arm. She turned away from him and walked away. The others had just entered Matazz. She moved in their direction. Then she stopped and turned back.

Reagan was still standing where she had left him.

"I'm dumping you," River said lamely. She turned and walked away from him, a strange feeling in her stomach.

* * *

Born in 1933, Sarah was 85, though she looked closer to 65. She was blue-eyed and fair-haired, and had dressed in a neat suit and high heels that would not have looked out of place had she just come from a funeral.

Sarah Parker had agreed to meet Parker and Sydney at a small gourmet chocolate boutique.

Sydney nodded to the woman as she approached, and Parker said: "I am pleased you could join us today." She glanced at Sydney. "This is Sydney."

Sarah extended her hand to Parker first, and then Sydney, and they all took seats at a table.

A waitress joined them soon after and Parker ordered three coffees. When the waitress walked away, Parker noticed that Sydney had started a polite conversation with Sarah.

He handed her the photograph Parker had found. Sarah smiled, but when she examined the photograph properly, the smile disappeared. She handed the photograph back, hitching a painful smile to her face.

Looking at them then, all those years ago, and knowing how it had all turned out. It hurt.

She touched Parker's hand with her fingers. "I did not believe what Catherine said about you both," she said quietly. "Look at you. You're beautiful."

Parker frowned.

"I'm sorry, Catherine Parker?" Sydney asked.

Sarah nodded. "Catherine was very ill for a very long time. She believed that angels had come to her and warned her about her unborn children."

Sydney did not comment.

Sarah saw Parker's face and frowned. "Catherine possessed a gift," Sarah continued. "She heard Voices. But she was also very sick. So many unfortunate things had befallen her and she was not strong. Her strength came later. Sometimes she confused her illness for her gift."

"Mrs. Parker was not mentally ill," Sydney told her.

Sarah frowned. "No, she was seriously mentally ill."

"Both?" Parker's shaking voice spoke, as though she had stopped hearing what had been said, as though she was somehow stuck in the past, back when Sarah had taken her hand.

"Yourself and Theodore," Sarah said, nodding.

"No," Parker said. "I have a sister. Her name is Polly."

Sarah frowned. "There is no sister, dear," she said, confused now. She smiled. "I knew that you would find each other, though they had separated you. You loved him so well, even before either of you knew what love was, or that it could be doubted." She laughed silently, water filling her eyes. "We always do try to understand things that do not need understanding. Pull it apart and try to work out how it works, but we never see that what is really important is that it does work."

"Lyle is not my brother!" Parker told her loudly, angrily.

"Perhaps not," Sarah agreed, her tone suddenly professional.

Sydney frowned, slightly annoyed.

"Abel was sent away when he was four," Sarah said shortly. "After that, I cannot say. I never met him again." She stood from her chair, and paused to touch the table edge, before turning and striding away.

Sydney rose. "Miss Parker!" he called after her, thinking how strange it was as he did.

Sarah turned but did not speak.

"If not brother, then what?"

Sarah smiled, really smiled, and then walked out.

* * *

River laughed. The boy was named Van and he worked in the food court selling ice-creams at Wendy's.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	39. Chapter 39

Parker placed the box down on the low table in Sydney's lounge room. The box contained a file, and had been sent to her by Sarah M. Parker. The file was Lyle's, perhaps even his entire file, from the time he was seventeen up until his death.

The file even contained various items that dated back to the time he had been Bobby, which surprised Parker. Sarah had known, or had come to know, that Lyle had been Bobby Bowman.

Parker picked up a small bound notebook. The first page she opened to, somewhere toward the front half of the notebook, was filled with what appeared to be cuneiform. The strangeness of it made Parker smile, an image of many flat-rooved square houses set amongst a barren desert entering her mind. She sorted through a further ten pages of the strange symbols. She flipped through the book, finding various sections of strange and foreign languages and symbols, as well as notations and hastily scrawled diagrams.

"There is mention of Lyle working as a translator," Sydney spoke aloud, his tone uncertain, and Parker glanced around at him.

Sydney spied the notebook.

Parker handed it to him. She did not see the purpose of it. Nobody used those languages anymore.

She had been sifting through various documents when she had come to a photograph, which she now found herself staring at. It was a photograph of Lyle and a small child. A little girl, Parker noted, frowning at the stuffed penguin. Both Lyle and the child were smiling, as though sharing an unspoken joke, their foreheads pressed together in a mock Vulcan mind meld. The little girl wore a badge that read: _I Love Nebraska_. A badge that Parker had seen before.

Her head started to hurt how hard she was trying to recall where and if on whom she had seen the badge, but it was as if her mind was suddenly blank. She glanced at the photograph again, confused. She remembered what Emily had said… _He left her because he didn't want to hurt her…_

Her head hurt some more. What had the girl's name been? She frowned, realising that she had not been told. She had simply remained Lyle's daughter.

"She's a little young," Sydney commented, glancing at the photograph also.

Parker stared at him. "She's his daughter," she said.

Sydney frowned. He had not heard this before.

"He left her because he didn't want to hurt her," Parker found herself saying.

Sydney frowned again.

"Emily is her mother. From what I understood, Emily seemed to have been taken out of the picture due to some unexplained event, leaving Lyle and his daughter alone in Canada, and then he left."

"Emily Russell?" Sydney said.

"Yes, Jarod's sister." She placed the photograph down upon the tabletop and began looking through the stack of files again.

* * *

Denis hovered around his back. She had come to hear of how the trials with the drug were coming along.

Peel wanted to tell her that it was ready, that everything was fine, but he couldn't do that, not after Sasha. The drug had not been tested outside of the laboratory before he had decided to administer it to Sasha unknowingly.

He had thought about it for a week before deciding that he would go ahead, and then Sasha had not reacted the way any of the other subjects, or participants, had. She had blown everything they had established about the drug out of the water, which had made him very angry.

And now it was time to tell the boss.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	40. Chapter 40

**2019**

Peel watched the Reaper with satisfaction. During his time in Hawaii, he might not have thought such a thing possible, but he could not deny what was right in front of his eyes. Of course, Persephone would have to be dealt with. She had been concealing this from the company all along. He glanced at the Chairman. He was sure she would share his opinion of the situation.

"This ability is so far from anything we have seen before," the Tower doctor in charge of the operation said. "It appears as though the Empath is actually physically manifesting the characteristics of the Reaper."

Peel noted the orange eyes, the blackened fingernails, the two vampire-like sharpened teeth.

The Reaper started to struggle, and Peel smiled. Had it sensed the excitement of the room?

* * *

Indiana wanted desperately to fall asleep, except she could not. Valor was restless. She could feel as much. The child would not sleep. It was not specific, the feeling, it was just there, stopping her from sleeping. Indiana supposed that what was so bad about it was that it had been there for some time now. A week, she would have said, if she had to put a time on it. And tonight, it would not let her sleep.

Indiana carefully slipped out of bed, and walked to her bedroom door. She padded to Valor's nursery. The doctor had prescribed her children's paracetamol, Indiana knew, for a problem with her ears, and whilst that should have helped things a bit, it seemed to have gotten bad again.

It could not do any harm to check on the child, Indiana supposed, and for a moment a strange feeling came over her. Not an outside feeling, but an inside feeling. It was her _own_ feeling. Valor was her daughter, and as much as she ignored the child, the fact remained. It felt a little odd to be going to see Valor in the middle of the night considering that the child was her daughter, a daughter she normally pretended did not exist, or was her little sister, or cousin, or something.

She found Valor lying very still. For a moment she thought that the child had fallen asleep, but her eyes were open. "It's me. Indiana," she said softly.

Valor did not look at her.

_What am I doing?_ Indiana wondered. Valor did not even know that she was her mother. Indiana didn't know who Valor actually thought she was. A sister, Indiana supposed.

She reached down to touch the child, and found herself reeling backward moments later. Valor had bitten her!

* * *

The nanny was upstairs with Valor, and Indiana and her mom sat waiting for Sydney. Her mom always rang Sydney when something went wrong, Indiana realised.

Her mom had that look, the look normally reserved for Reagan, and Indiana felt sick, remembering that Valor was Reagan's daughter also. Forced to think about it, forced to acknowledge that Valor was her daughter, she was a little scared. What if Valor turned out just like Reagan? What if she was crazy or something? Indiana didn't want to think about it, but it had to be thought about some time. Her hand hurt, and everything was wrong.

She wanted to run away, or cry. She wanted Kirk.

When Sydney arrived, her mom told her to go back up to bed. Everything would be sorted out. It was going to be fine. So that was what Indiana did.

* * *

Her mom was sending Valor to pre-school. Indiana had heard her talking with the nanny. For a long moment, she didn't know what to feel. She did not want her daughter turning into a bully though. That was when she thought about Bobby, about the things Bobby had done, and she realised that she had never tried to understand him, she had just accepted him the way he was, and he had accepted that she would never ask.

She needed to ask, she realised, before it was too late. She needed to be there to talk about these things with Valor. As soon as she had this thought, she wanted to cry. She had never asked for any of this. She had never asked for a baby.

* * *

The man could hear Sasha being sick in the other room. As if that was even her real name! Not with that tan. He was not going to hire her again, he decided. He would ask for another girl.

* * *

_Bobby tried to make the sound go away, but it wouldn't work. He buried his face in the mattress, or stuffed a pillow over his face, but then he couldn't breathe. When he started to breathe again, with great hitching gulps and long pauses, as though he had somehow forgotten how to breathe properly, the noise was back. It made him want to hold something for a very long time._

_The tears coming down his face felt as though something inside was dissolving, as though it needed to leave him now, and could not stay. But the sound stayed with him until he finally fell asleep._

* * *

Parker woke with a start, and slowly sat. She tried to remember what she'd been dreaming about, but whatever it was, it was gone now. She sucked in a deep breath. For some reason, up until moments ago, she hadn't been able to breathe.

She'd been dreaming about that stupid elevator, she supposed. Once, her mother had died in that elevator, and then she'd died again, no longer in that elevator. Once, she'd been locked in that elevator, and once, before that, she'd gone in that elevator voluntarily. She hated that elevator.

She started to cry, and at first she didn't know why. It was only until later that she realised that it was because, despite everything, she knew why Lyle had locked her in that elevator. He'd wanted her to be safe.

She felt angry at him suddenly. She could always bring it back to one thing in her head, that he wanted her to be safe not for her, but for himself.

She stoppered up her tears and slipped out of bed.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	41. Chapter 41

**2020**

Dee Dee frowned at the Empath. Dee Dee was the fifth youngest of her siblings, of which she had many (29 or 31, nobody really knew what had happened to the firstborn twins). She was a Healer, the same as her father, Rooney, and mother, Blake, who had been missing for two years now. Dee Dee was 18, not a baby. For all their bravado, not a single Empath had been able to locate her mother, she thought bitterly.

The Empath was named Xaris, for Lazarus, who she was told had risen from the dead. The Empath's eyes were unnervingly white and he generally wore grey, the colour all Empaths wore, and a tattooed marking ran along the right side of his neck.

Her mother had had tattoos on her face, Dee Dee recalled painfully, and her hands and feet. Though Reapers might have tattoos as adornment or to signify their bravery or cunning, her mother's tattoos had been purely to remind her that she was not free, and to distance her from others of her kind, to say, you are not one of us, may you never feel as though this is your home, you are the enemy.

Dee Dee put these thoughts away. She had come with the intention of informing the Empath that he was to attend a meeting and that she would take him to the room where the meeting was to be held. Were he much of an Empath, she thought coldly, he would have known why she had come, but instead he did not even seem to have noticed that he had been joined in the room and was no longer alone. And they said he was a Class Six!

Whatever he was or was not, she would never trust an Empath.

* * *

Valor was silent on the way to school. In a few very short minutes, she would be facing her first day.

Indiana sat in the back of the car, the middle seat vacant between them. Her last year. After this year, there would be no more high school. She would get a job, or go to university, or travel, or anything, but never again high school. It was a strange feeling.

In the driver's seat, her mom watched the traffic. Arriving in front of BCHS, she brought the vehicle to a standstill long enough for Indiana to jump out.

Indiana did not look back, or even wish Valor luck. She just rushed toward the gates and her school friends.

"I feel sick. I want to go with you to work," Valor said suddenly as they neared the primary school.

"Valor, you're not going to miss the first day," Parker said. "If you don't go today then you'll miss out on everything. You won't know where anything is, or anyone's names, or even your teacher's name. You can't miss your first day. If you feel too sick, I'm sure there'll be a teacher you can ask to take you to sickbay so you can have a lie down. You'll soon forget all about feeling sick."

* * *

They had to sit in a circle and introduce themselves.

There was Alana, Madison, Presley, Tiffany, Clement, Boxer, Donna, Clint, Pacino, Andrew, Phil, Patrick, Abigail, Mia, Daniel, Arthur, Jamie, Lucy, Andy, Billy, and Serena. When it was Valor's turn to introduce herself, some of the other kids grinned at her name. Valor pretended they were smiling for some other reason.

Then the teacher took them to their hooks where they could hang up their school bags, and underneath Valor's was written VAL with a sticker of a rocket ship. Under the hook beside her own, where it said Madison was supposed to put her school bag, a princess sticker beamed back at her. What she wouldn't have given for Madison's sticker instead of her own?

She trudged back into the classroom, and almost tripped because she hadn't picked up her feet enough.

Valor watched Madison sit next to a girl named Donna and wondered who she was going to sit next to, but the teacher pointed out a seat to her – next to a boy – and instructed her in a high-pitched whine to take a seat, so Valor had to sit next to the boy. She tried to remember the name the boy had given, but she couldn't.

After that, they had to walk to the art room and were assigned a desk to share between three or four people, and each given a big piece of paper so that they could draw their family.

Then the teacher was speaking again, telling them all to be careful in the art room and that they should be considerate of their neighbours and even the other students who used the art room and sometimes had to leave their work out because it was unfinished. She told them that they had to be extra careful with the scissors and sharpeners and pointy crayons and pencils, and then she pointed out where they could collect the crayons and pencils, and there was a rush to the front of the room for the few texta markers that had been spotted amongst the pencils and crayons.

Valor returned to the desk she shared with three other boys and stared at her big empty piece of paper, trying to think who she would draw. There was Parker, and Indiana, and her babysitter, who Indiana called a "nanny". She frowned.

She heard the teacher saying that they should include themselves in the picture too. A little boy was standing next to the teacher now. Valor supposed he had a question to ask, and decided that she would draw Parker and Indiana and Valor and Sam, because Sam was a man and everyone might just think he was her dad, but that would be okay.

* * *

Indiana smiled. She had a double practical period of Chemistry and she was working on an experiment or "prac" as it was always called. Nobody called it an experiment, that would just have sounded silly. Usually she worked with Scarlett, but today the teacher had asked them to partner up with someone they had not worked with before, or at least did not usually work with, and Indiana had partnered with the boy across the aisle from her. Avalon did not take Chemistry.

"I'm Eastwood," the boy said, which was why Indiana was smiling.

"Indiana," she told him.

He nodded. "We're in Delaware, but Indiana's good. It's a good name for you. I'll remember you-" He laughed, and amended. "I'll remember your name now."

"I'll remember yours too," Indiana said.

* * *

Thora had got a job cleaning. Five days a week, she cleaned a big shopping complex in the middle of town named Bay Mall. She even had a uniform. Sometimes she thought about Mungo, her little boy, who was going to be one this year, and might even start to walk by the end of the year. And sometimes she tried to think about nothing at all. She tried not to think about the past.

On Saturday, she worked to make up for Mungo's day care. For her old clients she was Sasha, and for her new clients she was Glinda.

* * *

"The woman went this way," Xaris informed the officer with his usual South African accent. He had been contracted out to the military to work on a Missing Persons case, for which he'd been given contact lenses to correct his eye colour to brown.

The Special Agent nodded. They would go that way.

* * *

The woman was dead. For a moment, Xaris's partner, Tom, fixed him with a look, as though he thought he should have known that much at least. Tom was a Special Agent with the Navy.

Somewhere outside, Justin was being sick. Tom had looked around, and as he turned back, he glanced at Xaris for a moment, and his expression was as ordinary as it had been the first day they'd met. They were standing in this place where a woman had been murdered with the murdered woman, and Xaris had no problem with that!

Tom felt a wave of anger and sickness and repulsion flood through him. He knew plenty of other Empaths who would have been so disturbed they would have walked out! But Xaris just stood there. Maybe he was annoyed at himself that he had not sensed that the woman was dead beforehand. But that only made it worse. A human being was dead! Murdered by another human being!

There was something seriously wrong with Xaris, Tom decided, and knew that he would never again feel safe with him walking behind him. Tom felt like walking out himself. If one of them didn't walk out soon, he was sure he would take a shot at Xaris.

Xaris looked at him suddenly, and then he grabbed his hand.

Tom shouted something nondescript and sprang away from the Empath, but for a split second everything was not the same. It was different. It wasn't even daytime. And then it was normal again.

Two of Tom's men had sprinted in and were asking him questions, but Tom was staring strangely at Xaris, who was looking back at him blankly. "It's fine," Tom said to his men. He instructed them to check out something outside, and then he held out his hand and it became night time again. Then he saw exactly how the woman had been murdered.

He didn't need to tell Xaris when to stop showing him the murder, because he'd collapsed, and Tom had left go of his hand, and then it was daylight again, and Tom couldn't even throw up if he wanted. He hadn't known any Empaths who could do that before, but somehow he knew this wasn't something he wanted to share with so many people.

* * *

They'd taken Xaris to a naval hospital and the murdered woman had gone down to see the medical examiner, and for some reason Tom was being yelled at, albeit, over the phone, for taking Xaris anywhere, but Tom yelled right back at the person on the other end of the phone, he was goddamn responsible for Xaris, and so long as he was responsible, he was going to do what he saw fit. The angry person told him that they would send a doctor, and Tom growled "Good!", and hung up.

He walked down to the doctor who'd been attending Xaris only to be told that he hadn't looked serious enough to be treated with all the other serious patients and would be sitting in the waiting area with his men. Annoyed, he walked to the waiting area, which was right when Xaris decided to make his getaway.

Tom spent a whole hour, before the Healer arrived, contingency of what was most likely security in tow, and had to explain that Xaris had got away, to which the Healer made a face.

His cell phone announced an incoming call. He grabbed it and barked, "Rayburn."

The Healer eyed him with clear disapproval.

Tom swore and informed the Healer that Xaris was down in Autopsy. He'd knocked the medical examiner out somehow and when the ME had come around he'd been up to something with the murdered woman's body. The ME had rendered him unconscious.

Tom led the Healer down to Autopsy, his men and the Healer's men following behind, and walked up to the shaken ME.

Then the body he had been examining started to cough.

* * *

Tom could not even begin to think about coffee right now. First they'd found their Missing Person, only to discover that she'd been murdered, then she'd somehow been not murdered, because she was alive again, and according to the Healer she was healthier than the lot of them, only she hadn't been Healed.

The ME maintained he couldn't remember a thing, he'd been rather crudely knocked out with a blunt object, and the unmurdered woman herself wasn't saying anything, because she couldn't remember a damn thing either, including that she'd apparently been murdered and resurrected from the dead.

The Healer seemed very interested in the chain of events, but Tom was just tired and wound up, which meant he wouldn't be able to sleep if he wanted to – and Justin was offering him a goddamn coffee, of all things! – which for some reason he accepted, and took a quick sip. One good thing, he noted, Justin was looking better.

The woman, fresh from an examination with a naval doctor, walked over and thanked them all for the hard work they had put in to find her.

Tom nodded. There was no point in going into it until her memory came back, when and if it ever did.

And then she went and thanked them for her unborn child.

Tom only stared. The woman was pregnant and the Healer hadn't let on a goddamn thing!

He finished his coffee and marched away to get the security footage from that room, assuming there was any footage to be gotten.

* * *

There was the Empath coming into the room, and knocking the ME out, and then he was approaching the woman. He touched her hair on the side of her face, and then she started to glow, but from the inside instead of out. She had stopped glowing by the time the ME stirred and rose, grabbed the nearest heavy object small enough to lift to any height, and knocked the Empath out. Then the ME rang Tom, and later Tom appeared in the room with his men and the guests. Nobody noticed the bloody naval officer until she started to cough, still bloody, but no longer dead.

Tom pocketed the recording, his mind full of _E.T._, and instructed the young man to forget it had ever existed.

He was walking back to the waiting area when he remembered something he had seen on one of the other screens, and turned and sprinted back, which was how he found himself staring at the murderer.

* * *

Tom requested security back up, but did not wait. His men went with him. Two of the Healer's security, who had been staked out in the waiting area, accompanied them also, though Tom had not asked for them to do so.

Tom had never seen a Reaper before, at least not a transformed Reaper, but he quickly forget the Reaper when he noticed that Justin had been shot, the reason for the loud noise he had heard moments before.

The security he had requested arrived, asking to know what had happened, but all Tom could do was rant about a doctor.

With a growl, the Reaper threw the murderer on the security men, and picked Justin up and carried him back up to the waiting area. The Reaper's partner followed suit.

Tom took off after the Reaper, so one of his men explained about the murderer whilst explaining as little as possible.

The Reaper carried Justin through the waiting area and straight to the room where the Healer was talking with a naval doctor and dumped Justin on one of the crisp white beds. "This one needs one of you," he reported gruffly.

The naval doctor gaped, but the Healer sprung into action, blue eyes simmering momentarily as they shifted colour to a paler blue, and the Reaper, his own eyes a dark red, removed the bullet from Justin with a knife from a sheath strapped to his leg.

"He's a doctor," Tom told the naval doctor, moving quickly to remove him from the room, though the doctor put up little resistance.

* * *

"How do you feel?" Tom heard one of his men ask Justin.

Justin moaned. "Like I've been probed by aliens."

The other man laughed.

"Was Rambo for real?" Justin asked the other man as though he wasn't sure.

"Rambo was for real," his friend told him.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	42. Chapter 42

There were all kinds of Coca-Cola: classic, vanilla, cinnamon, menthol, and peppermint; then there were the fruit flavours: orange, pineapple, blueberry, cherry, lime, raspberry, passionfruit, banana, and strawberry; the sweet and sour flavours: grape, watermelon, and green apple, and the special flavours: bubblegum, Jaffa, Nescafé, and Turkish delight, and all of these came in regular, diet, and zero.

Valor liked regular blueberry and menthol together, though Indiana told her that it was disgusting. Indiana liked Jen & Berry's diet strawberry soda.

Sam liked regular classic Coke, and Parker liked the same. Valor had asked them once at McDonald's. Though she didn't know what kind her babysitter liked.

It was Friday, and on Fridays she always got a lunch order for lunch, and today she had decided that she had wanted a meat pie with ketchup, which came in its own special little packet. All of the little sauces came from the same place the pies came from, Valor knew, though her primary school didn't have a cafeteria like Indiana's high school did, and the teacher made them eat lunch in their classroom so that she could make sure they had all eaten something, which most of the time was all of their lunch.

Valor had to wait for the person who brought the lunch orders in to eat her pie, but her nanny had packed her a little container of sultanas in her lunchbox, and some cheese sticks from a real block of cheese which made her moan. She didn't like sultanas and she didn't like cheese sticks unless they were processed.

"What's that?" Presley, who was sitting next to her, asked, pointing to the little container of sultanas.

Valor opened the lid and showed her. "They're called sultanas."

Presley looked at the little sultanas. "Can I have some?" she asked. "If I swap you something else."

Valor didn't really want the sultanas, but she didn't want to swap them for something really yuck either. "What do you have?" she said.

Presley showed her her lunchbox, which contained three cheese sticks.

"I'll swap you the cheese sticks for all of my sultanas," Valor said.

Presley thought about it. "Okay," she said.

Valor took the cheese sticks and emptied the sultanas into Presley's lunchbox.

"Thanks," Presley said.

Valor looked over to where the person with the lunch orders had just come in, and leapt out of her seat to go to the front to collect her pie and ketchup.

Presley was eating a sandwich when Valor sat back down at their desk and said, "I'm saving the sultanas for last," and smiled.

* * *

Denis had not known about regeneration, though Peel assured her that it was normal, if not a little shocking. He'd admitted that even he had been sceptical about the reports of such occurrences in the portion of T-Corp scriptures they had been able to acquire.

Denis had seen people younger because they'd been Healed. She'd had some of her more important staff Healed. Parker, for instance, who as a consequence looked ten years younger, though not by Raines. She had known Raines, after all. But this was different.

She could not help a sense of dread that now that he looked fifty or more years younger – as though he were seventeen again – it would suddenly be revealed that something was wrong with him. Still, a Tower Healer assigned to Blue Cove – his name was Jerry or something – assured her that everything was fine, and he would be due for his own regeneration cycle in a couple of years, a fact which he was looking forward to with much more enthusiasm now.

* * *

Alone in a monitored observation room, Raines sat and stared at nothing. Watching him over the monitor screen, Denis had the sudden urge to instruct someone – a tech perhaps? – to dig up some old photographs of him at the same age he looked now, though she knew he had not started working for the Center until he was 19, which was in itself quite young for one who was not company property.

He had not spoken yet, though she supposed all of this was quite normal to him, the enemy company he had belonged to beforehand must have told him this would happen, though it was doubtful he would remember beforehand. So far, he had not managed to remember much of anything, even before his regeneration. She supposed it had been in part due to the negative feedback that had nearly killed him, and perhaps it was partly psychological too.

The door opened and Peel joined her. A sudden thought occurred to her at that moment, causing Peel to frown. It must have shown on her face.

"We are sure this is his first regeneration, are we?" she asked, but she'd said it too quickly to think about phrasing it properly.

"Yes. The Tower Healers all agree. I questioned them only yesterday on the matter."

Denis made a face, but said nothing. He might have told her, she thought angrily. "I want you to arrange for someone to be sent in there to do an assessment, one of the Tower psychiatrists. I don't need to tell you to send an Empath along with them, I suppose?"

Peel shook his head. He was quite capable of organising a Tower psychiatrist and a Tower Empath for the task.

Denis turned and walked out. Now that he was regenerated, she expected that he would be able to function much more efficiently.

As she stepped outside, her personal Tower Sweeper and Empath fell in behind her.

* * *

Sydney placed his mug of hot coffee down in front of him. It was quiet enough in the dining hall at the moment to think, so he thought about how far back into human history it would be theoretically possible to trace the anomaly if one assumed that at least some of the cases of soothsayers or witchdoctors or vampires were serious indications of individuals who possessed the anomaly.

* * *

River studied teaching at the University of Delaware, Blue Cove Campus. She was going to be a History teacher.

She was sitting in a cramped lecture theatre trying to hear what the lecturer was saying over the thrum of the ventilation and make notes at the same time, even though the miniscule fold-out plastic table was almost hovering over her neighbours lap so she had to lean over almost onto said neighbour to write anything in the Pebbles exercise book she had brought with her. As a consequence, she hadn't been making very many notes at all, and instead she'd scribbled a list of all of her boyfriends in the margin of her exercise book, which read: 1. Van, 2. Troy, 3. Buzz, 4. Enzi, each listed one under the other with a number indicating the order they had come in.

Two months ago, her newest boyfriend, Enzi, had dumped her, and it had sucked for a long time.

When the two-hour lecture was over an hour later, River made her way back to her car. Hadn't someone said that the average attention span was 15 minutes? So why did they run lectures for two hours, she wondered with irritation.

River also had a part-time job at the local aquatics centre where she cleaned, though once she had filled in for Anna when she'd been able to make it and she'd got to check people's season passes or take their money and hand them back their change whenever someone had to pay a daily fee because they did not hold a pass.

She did not have any more lectures for the day and she was not cleaning at the aquatics centre, so she decided to drive to Bay Mall and walk around and look at the shops, maybe even have a doughnut or something.

She was walking past a pet shop when something caught her eye and she noticed a young man with red hair, and a strange feeling settled upon her. The young man was watching a group of sleepy rabbits, but even though he was not facing her, River knew he was Reagan.

She wasn't sure what she should do, but she was thinking about it, when Reagan stepped away from the glass cage and walked away. _Let him walk away_, she told herself. She was better off without him, and maybe even he was better off without her.

Reagan turned around suddenly and ran back to the rabbits. For a moment, River had been scared he'd seen her, but he'd only wanted to see the rabbits again. They were still sleeping. He left them again and wandered away.

River watched him walk away. She needed him to walk away. She needed him to disappear.

But then he suddenly turned and leapt at a teenage girl who'd been passing and threw his arms around her. "Enya!"

Enya, who was probably 15, shrieked in fright.

The girl who had been walking with her and was her friend yanked Reagan off Enya and pushed him as hard as she could away from the two of them, shouting: "Get off her, you pervert!"

Reagan stumbled backward, but managed not to fall over.

"Freak!" Enya hissed, before the two teenage girls strode off. River thought they would have run, but the friend was not a chicken, and she did not want to show any fear in case the pervert freak got off on that sort of thing.

River was scared now, but she couldn't run away, because now she was scared for more than just herself. What if Reagan grabbed some other girl and she couldn't defend herself or she didn't have a friend to help her? _It wouldn't be your fault_, she told herself sternly. But she knew that she was probably the only one here who knew what Reagan had done before, the only one who knew how dangerous he could be.

Whilst she had been preoccupied, Reagan had must have walked a fair way ahead and she couldn't see him any more. Making her mind up, River quickly walked off in the direction she had seen Reagan go, praying she would be able to find him.

He was looking at toys in a toy store when she found him, but she didn't get too close in case he noticed her, but she had a sudden sickening feeling in her stomach. Little children went to pet shops. They also went to toy stores.

Reagan went inside and River lost sight of him until she moved closer, actually going into the store, and spotted him in an aisle, looking at the Barbie dolls.

He took one of the Beth Turner, Buzz Wire reporter dolls out of the shelf, and turned the box around to read the back.

River's chest started to hurt. She had no way of knowing when or who Reagan planned to abduct with Beth, but she could see it all in her head.

Reagan put Beth back in the shelf and looked around at the other Barbie dolls. He took Enda from Stargate: Monument off the shelf and read the back of her box, then Lunar Explorer Barbie. River could see Barbie in a space suit taped and wired down so that it looked like she was standing on the moon, a digitised image of a lunar landscape and a moon buggy printed onto the inside of the box behind Barbie. Lunar Explorer Barbie was returned to the shelf and Princess Barbie was taken off after her, followed by an American Idol Barbie, Barbie's younger sister Skipper, Teacher Barbie, and Sailor Barbie.

Reagan replaced the Sailor Barbie, and walked back over to Beth.

Beth would do the trick. She was not scary at all.

River had to hide when Reagan turned and walked to the register with Beth where he paid for her in cash before leaving the toy store. River waited until she was sure he was not going to turn suddenly and see her before following him out, and noticed that he was heading back the way they'd come. He walked to the space where he'd parked his car – it was the same car he'd had two years ago – and drove away.

* * *

Valor was having a party for her birthday. Paulie and Broots were going to be there, because Paulie was her aunty, and they'd be bringing their son, Anton, who was twelve. Indiana had invited her friends, Scarlett and Avalon. Valor had even been allowed to invite Presley, who wasn't her friend, but they ate lunch together at school. And Sam was coming too. He'd promised.

* * *

River frowned, staring at her sister. She wanted her to drive her to whose birthday party?

Avalon shook her head and walked out with a "Whatever".

River plopped down on her bed. She wasn't a bloody taxi driver, and it wasn't even as though she was invited to the bleeding birthday party, even if it was for a four-year-old!

She hauled herself off her bed and stomped out of her room and stopped in front of Avalon's bedroom door. "Whatever!" she shouted through the door loudly. "I'll bloody drive you there, okay!"

Avalon said nothing, so River sat down in the hallway and waited for her to finish getting changed or whatever it was she was doing.

* * *

River could see a happy Valor running around and welcoming everyone to her party, but she kept running in and out of view when things got in the way, and then she disappeared altogether when all the guests had finally arrived.

The sound of Avalon laughing loudly woke her about three hours later, and she watched her younger sister say goodbye to her friends, and walk towards the car.

Avalon climbed in the backseat, though she could have sat in the front, there was room, and River started the car.

"I snuck out a piece of cake for you," Avalon said from the back, as River was waiting to turn right.

River didn't say anything. She pretended to be concentrating on the traffic.

Avalon left the piece of cake on the backseat, and later, when she had a short break from cleaning at the aquatic centre, River took the piece of cream cake out of her lunchbox and sat down to eat it.

She got home late, tired, and wanting to go straight to bed. So that was what she did.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	43. Chapter 43

A week later, River was working day shift at the aquatics centre when she noticed a group of small children in school uniforms who later came out in swimsuits and trunks and board shorts and special tee shirts that could be worn in water, some of them with goggles and some of them without.

Valor was there too, River realised. She was talking with a dark-haired girl, and in front of them a boy was carrying a water bottle. They all walked to the little pool and listened to their teacher talking to them, occasionally turning to say something regarding the instructor, who was really there to help the two teachers look after that many kids.

Valor was showing the dark-haired girl something and the teacher said loudly, "Val, put that away!"

Valor looked at the teacher suddenly, and then she flung the Barbie doll into the pool.

"Now you've ruined it!" the teacher stormed, stomping over to her to tell her off for not obeying school rules, and Valor's friend watched Beth sink to the bottom of the pool.

"She's very daring," her classmate said.

"She has to be if she wants to get her story," Valor told her classmate once the teacher had finished with the telling off and had stomped away to retrieve the Barbie.

"Can I play with her for a little while?" the dark-haired girl asked, looking at Valor now.

Valor looked at the other girl too. "She's very special," she said finally. "She was a present for my birthday. I'll let you play with her for a little while, but you have to take extra special care of her."

"Okay," the dark-haired girl said.

The teacher returned with the Barbie and told Valor to take it to her schoolbag and leave it in there until she got home, unless she wanted it confiscated.

Valor looked at the dark-haired girl and frowned. "Sorry," she said.

"You can bring her tomorrow," the dark-haired girl suggested. "Then I can bring my dolly too. Her name's Lana."

Valor nodded and turned and walked back the way she had come, waiting until she was far enough away from her group and the teachers to sprint.

* * *

When River woke it was still dark. For a moment, she didn't know why she was afraid, and then she remembered Beth.

Reagan must have somehow ensured that Valor had gotten the doll.

If he was giving her presents, then maybe he expected something back? And the little girl was much more like Indiana than him. What if Reagan was planning to kidnap Valor in place of Indiana, who he loved but had been denied?

River shivered, but forced herself to lie back down. She couldn't do anything now anyway. It was the middle of the night.

She felt completely sick that she had ever cared about Reagan.

* * *

Lana wasn't a Barbie doll. She was cheap and she wasn't even plastic all the way through. If Valor squeezed her too hard she would crush in on herself. And she had purple hair.

Presley smiled. "Lana was Superman's first girlfriend," she said. "Before Lois."

"Superman?" Valor asked.

"He can fly, and he's a superhero," Presley told her.

Valor frowned. "So who is Lois?"

"She's a reporter," Presley explained. "She has yellow hair like Beth."

It was playtime and the two girls were sitting outside with their dolls.

"Beth has nice clothes," Presley commented, fingering the hem of Beth's cream trench coat with the tie belt.

Lana's clothes in comparison weren't very nice. She only had a dress, and it wasn't even a very good dress. Valor supposed she had had shoes once, but she didn't have them anymore.

"When I get a new dolly I'm gonna name her Beth," Presley said excitedly.

"But won't it be confusing if we play dolls together and there are two Beths?" Valor asked.

Presley thought about this. She really wanted to call her dolly Beth.

"What if your new doll has her own name?"

"Lana's box said she was called Stephanie, but I called her Lana anyway," Presley told her.

"Maybe you can call her Madison?" Valor suggested. "Madison's a pretty name."

Presley made a face.

* * *

"I'm bloody scared, Enzi. He's a child rapist. He told me. He bloody told me. No shame or nothing. This isn't about me. I think he's going to hurt another little girl. Do you understand?"

There was a pause. "You're serious? You're not pulling my leg?" the young African American man asked slowly.

"Of course I'm bloody serious!" River shouted into her cell phone. "What would I be doing ringing you for otherwise?"

"Okay, I believe you," Enzi told her, trying to settle things down again. "Have you spoken to the police?"

River laughed. "What are the bloody police going to do? There were never any charges pressed."

"Why not?"

"I don't know!"

Enzi sighed. "What do you need me for?"

"I want you to scare him," River said, trying to keep her voice level.

"Bloody hell, River!" Enzi burst. "Scare him how?"

"I don't know," River told him, and her voice had started to wobble. She wasn't sure she should even be having this conversation, least of all over a cell phone. "I just want him to stop," she said.

"What does that mean?" Enzi demanded, more confused than angry.

River scrunched up her face. "I DON'T KNOW!"

* * *

A day later, River had arranged to meet Enzi in person. So she was sitting in Starbucks, trying not to fidget, and praying that Enzi actually turned up.

Enzi arrived ten minutes later, and took a seat sitting across from her at the little table she had chosen. "So…" He sighed, then decided to get down to business. "How old is he? What does he looks like?"

River frowned. "He's twenty," she said, passing him a page that looked as though it had been ripped out of an exercise book and folded in quarters.

Enzi unfolded the page, frowning at the illustration.

"Well he's got red hair," River defended her drawing abilities, pointing out how she had coloured the hair orange, "and his eyes are blue."

Enzi folded the drawing up again and in half again and slipped it in a pocket of his jeans. "So how do you know this creep?"

River glared. That wasn't any of his business.

Enzi shrugged. "How are you?" he asked finally.

River made a face.

Enzi nodded. "Whatever we do," he clarified, "we're doing it to save this little girl, right?"

River nodded.

"You're a good person, River," Enzi told her. "I trust your judgement. If you say this guy's a creep, then he's a creep."

* * *

Enzi didn't remember how he'd found Reagan, or even where he'd been when he had, and he didn't really want to remember.

River's drawing had been more or less accurate, he reflected. When River had first showed him the picture, he hadn't thought he would be able to recognise anyone from it, but he'd recognised Reagan. Reagan had been wearing a long-sleeved shirt and cargo pants that fitted. He'd looked normal enough – human enough.

That's what Enzi was thinking now. How someone could look so normal, so everyday, and still be a monster. How they could even seem normal, or be normal, until the moment when they weren't anymore.

He'd wanted to leave the baseball bat there, just drop it and run, but then he'd thought about all of those forensic shows he watched, and he'd taken it with him. He'd forced himself to calm down enough to think, and he'd taken the bat with him, gotten in his car, and driven away.

Reagan would be fine. He'd have a hell of a lot of bruising, and a bit of soreness, but he'd be fine.

_He'll be fine._ That was what Enzi kept telling himself. But then he remembered how angry he'd been, but he couldn't think like that, so he got up and washed the blood off the baseball bat, and rang his girlfriend. How did she feel about seeing him tonight?

* * *

It was just for one night. Parker had signed the permission form. Valor's grade was having a sleepover at the school. There'd be teachers, and other children's parents. She'd be safe. So she signed the form.

On the way over, Valor was so excited. She told Parker about how they were going to play games and listen to music and how they'd have to doing stupid bush dancing which was totally hillbilly. They'd have contests and prizes and lots and lots of other fun things. They were even going to have takeout for tea.

Just listening to her, Parker was excited for her.

* * *

Valor won a jelly frog and a chewy mint lolly, and she had to dance with Boxer for the bush dancing, but even that she didn't mind so much because Boxer looked to be having a much worse time of it than her, and it was a little bit funny.

When it was time to go to sleep, Valor made sure she put her inflatable mattress next to Presley's camping mat, and then the teacher told everyone a bedtime story, some of the kids sitting up and some of them already lying down.

The teacher was halfway through the story – Presley had heard it before – when Presley looked at Valor and noticed she was crying, but it wasn't even a sad story, or even a scary story, and then when she asked her what was wrong, she didn't say anything at all. She didn't even seem to notice when the teacher stopped reading, because Presley was really worried for Valor, and came to ask her what was wrong too.

It was only when the teacher touched her that she started to scream and scratch and bite. Presley scrambled away in fright, and other kids too, were looking frightened. Some of the parents rushed over, and another teacher, but they couldn't calm her down. She kept screaming and scratching and kicking and biting. Then someone got her in a car and drove her to the hospital where a doctor gave her a needle to sedate her. They had to ring Parker after that.

* * *

Sitting in that hospital, hearing those things about what Valor had done, Parker decided that something had to be done. Something was happening that she did not understand, and she had to find out what it was before it was too late.

* * *

Peel made a face, examining an abrasion he had just applied disinfectant to. "How did this happen?" he asked the young man.

Reagan did not look at him, the same as he had not been looking at him for the last hour, and did not reply.

Peel sighed heavily. It would have to heal naturally, he supposed. With the medication Reagan was on, it was not a safe bet to be allowing Healers to intervene.

"C-c-can I g-go now?" Reagan grumbled, pushing the pain away.

Peel regarded him, and nodded once. "Certainly, you can go now."

Reagan scowled and slipped off the examining table and strode out the door. He didn't like Peel and he wasn't going to pretend that he did.

* * *

"I'm scared, Momma. I'm scared there'll be nothing I can do for her."

But Catherine did not answer.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	44. Chapter 44

Parker could not sleep. She found the recording in a box of Lyle's things, stashed away in the attic. A reference number was printed onto the front of the small disc that otherwise held no identifying features. It may or may not have been a DSA.

Parker took the gift box with an _E.T._ theme printed on the outside which contained more of the funny little discs and walked to her laptop which had an in-built DSA drive.

The first disc seemed to take some time to read, but it eventually played, a viewing screen popping up on her desktop. The recording was of a room, and was in colour, but if this was a DSA, it was missing the customary FOR CENTER USE ONLY, replaced by an embedded date and time code.

The room might have been part of an infirmary, Parker thought. She could see a person strapped to a bed, but otherwise the room was empty. A few minutes later, an Asian teenage girl appeared on screen and walked up to the person on the bed. "Little alien child," she said gently, her voice low. "Aren't you hungry?" By her speech, Parker could tell that she was Japanese.

A man in a suit strode swiftly onto camera and took hold of the girl's wrist, causing her to half turn abruptly. "You should not be in here, Yumiko," the man said to her.

Yumiko lifted her chin and looked up into the man's face. "He doesn't look very hungry, Dr. Randolph," she said. "He looks ill."

"That is why we must leave," Dr. Randolph told her.

Yumiko frowned.

The pair walked out of the screen.

It was more of the boy and the bed after that, so Parker ejected the disc, and replaced it with another.

This time, the recording showed some sort of sparse living room or common room. Yumiko walked across the screen and stopped before a boy sitting in the corner, who might have been ten. Yumiko was older. "Do you speak, Bobby Bowman?" she asked calmly. "My name is Yumiko. Is that your name? Bobby?"

Parker frowned at the mention of that name.

"Sister!" a voice scolded from across the room, and an identical girl came running toward the pair. They must have been identical twins.

"He appears quite human," Yumiko said.

"Of course he's human!" her twin sister scolded, taking her arm.

"No," Yumiko told her. "Dr. Randolph must have brought him here for a reason."

"I don't care for Randolph's reasons, sister, we should leave the strange child alone."

Yumiko sighed. "Goodbye little alien child," she muttered, and turned away. "I don't think he can speak, in any case," she said to her sister. "And you were so afraid Lyle would like him better," she teased.

_Lyle_, Parker thought abruptly. What did that name have to do with this place?

"Girls," a man's voice rang out, startling the twin sisters, "have you met Bobby? He's going to be staying with us over the summer."

Yumiko shot her sister a short glare and the other girl released her arm sharply. "Dr. Bartholomew," the two girls chorused, and Yumiko's sister bowed.

Yumiko fleetingly made a face at her for doing so.

Yumiko's sister pretended she hadn't seen her sister's look of disapproval as the man named Dr. Bartholomew strode toward the two girls, watching each of them with the eye of one who did so often. He also wore a suit.

"Yes," Yumiko spoke up. "He's a small thing."

Bartholomew smiled. "How old would you say Bobby is?" he asked, and turned suddenly, directing the question on Yumiko's sister. "Yuriko?"

Yuriko glanced across at Bobby in the corner. "I would say he was ten, Dr. Bartholomew," she answered.

Bartholomew's smile widened. "No, no, no. Appearances can be deceiving, Yuriko. Bobby is eleven." He frowned. "Now, he may very well look younger, even ten, but… we do not judge people solely by their looks. Do we, Yuriko?"

"No, Dr. Bartholomew," Yuriko answered again.

Bartholomew nodded, his smile returning. "If I were to ask you again, how old would you say Bobby is, you would answer…?"

Yuriko turned her glance on Bobby again, and frowned in alarm. She turned sharply and looked at Bartholomew, who nodded. Hesitantly, the girl started to move toward Bobby, until she was standing directly in front of him. She stood just like that for many seconds, almost a minute, and then she knelt down and placed a hand on Bobby's face, though the action did not cause any reaction in Bobby. Her face stricken, she turned back to face the doctor. "I cannot answer, Dr. Bartholomew!"

Again, Bartholomew's smile widened, and now he directed his question to Yumiko. "And why is it, do you think, Yumiko, that your sister is not able to answer a simple question such as the age of a child?"

Yumiko winced. He was insulting her sister, and she did not like it. "Bobby is of a higher class than Yuriko," she replied in a firm but level voice. "He is actively blocking Yuriko's attempts to ascertain such information."

Bartholomew began clapping his hands, but though he was smiling, his eyes had hardened. "Yes, you are correct, of course, child. But you should address me as Dr. Bartholomew." He smiled a little bit more. "I ask you not to address the boy as Bobby. His name is Robert. Address him as such."

Yumiko scowled, her face darkening as well as her eyes, but she forced a smile onto her mouth and said in a stiff imitation of a friendly chime: "Dr. Bartholomew. Of course."

Bartholomew nodded, turned and exited the room.

Yuriko, her face red and still knelt in front of Bobby, sprung up, and ran from the room.

Yumiko glared at Bobby. "We shall not be friends, higher class," she told him coldly, before turning and following her sister out of the room.

* * *

Dr. Randolph entered the room some ten minutes later and walked up to Bobby and knelt down the way Yuriko had, though not as close. "Hello, Bobby," he said in a voice that was trying painfully hard to be friendly, but conscious that it did not want to be too friendly.

Bobby continued to stare at the empty space in front of him.

"Lyle has told me nothing but promising things," Randolph continued. "He is very proud." He sighed. "What about you? Are you proud?" He paused. "You should be." A smile came onto his face as he said this. "Proudness is not a bad thing, Bobby. In moderation, proudness is a very good thing. It keeps our achievements consistent and stops us from falling down. If we are proud, we want to do our best. And we do do our best, Bobby." He glanced at the space of floor between them for a moment.

"There are doubts, Bobby, and I understand that, but you must trust in others that they will be proud of you because there is every reason to be proud, and then, you will know it is okay to be proud of yourself."

Randolph sighed.

"You must be thinking, _He does go on!_ – and you would be right. I admit, I make rather a habit of it. But for now, I will say goodbye, and hope to speak again soon." He smiled, and commented to himself. "Bloody awful!" Breaking out of his thoughts, he glanced at Bobby quickly and said, "Not you, Bobby. I was talking about me, not you." Then he left.

* * *

Once again, Parker ejected the disc. She did not know whether she should insert another disc – there were too many questions – yet the only way those questions were going to be answered was by these suddenly few discs.

Yuriko had not liked Randolph, she thought to herself as the third disc read, but she had liked Bartholomew, which was perhaps why she had been so hurt by his comments, though Parker could not see what was to like about the man.

"Bobby, cut that out!" Randolph was shouting.

The sudden loud noise made Parker start.

"This is bloody important! Vital even. Now is no time to act up, Bobby. Use your head, you're not stupid."

But Bobby didn't want to cooperate it seemed. He had been struggling, and now seemed to gain the upper hand.

"Sedate him!" Randolph shouted to one of his staff, reeling backward for the objecting teenager. "For God sake, sedate him!"

Bobby growled, and leapt at the doctor, but Randolph was not weak. Even looking at him on the recording, he was broad-shouldered and of a medium weight, though his reactions told he was fit. He took hold of Bobby and held fast, praying that he would be able to hold him until the nurse arrived with the sedative he had ordered.

In the end, Randolph and four other nurses who had come in following the commotion managed to get the boy onto a bed and strap him down, but he was not giving up easily, and he had already caused injury to several of Randolph's staff.

Abruptly, one of the nurses stumbled back from the bed, and started screaming.

"Stop it!" Randolph shouted at the boy. "Stop it, Bobby!" To the nurses he shouted, "You must not touch him!"

Bobby's chest was heaving horribly, and he was still struggling.

One of the nurses moved to secure the strap the stumbling, screaming nurse had left, herself shaking.

"I said 'No!'" Randolph yelled. "No skin contact!"

The nurse pulled the sleeve of her long-sleeve tee shift down over her hand, and another nurse moved to help her, and the two nurses secured the strap.

Bobby started to holler unintelligibly.

The nurse who had been sent away arrived with the sedative, and Randolph, shooting the nurse a severely annoyed look, took the offered needle. "Put some gloves on and hold his arm," he told the shaking nurse over Bobby's continued screaming.

The nurse hurried to comply. She pulled on a pair of disposable rubber gloves and rushed back toward the bed, taking a firm hold of Bobby's arm, though he was not keeping very still even with his wrists and ankles restrained.

"Calm down, Bobby," Randolph advised the boy. "You'll only hurt yourself. There's nothing you can do now."

Bobby just roared at him.

So Randolph sedated him.

And then he stopped. Stopped struggling. Stopped everything.

Randolph gave a sigh of relief.

Until Bobby started to arrest.

His heart stopped fifteen times until they were able to stabilise him tentatively.

Bartholomew arrived sometime after the sedation had happened, but he watched without comment. It wasn't until Bobby was stable and alive again, and most of the nurses had left, that he strode up to Randolph and took hold of him and threw him against the wall.

"I didn't know he was bloody allergic!" Randolph yelled, shaking from before, and shaking even more now.

"He is not some… _toy_!" Bartholomew breathed with barely restrained anger. "He is my son!"

He tossed Randolph away from him, utterly disgusted, and stormed from the room.

Randolph stood quite still for a couple of moments, and then, nodding to a nurse who had not managed to escape in time, he dropped his glance to the floor and walked out also.

Parker sat, not able to look away from the screen, and shivered.

"Mom," a quietly concerned voice came to her from across the room, "why aren't you sleeping?"

"I wasn't tired," Parker reported stiffly. "But I am now."

Indiana frowned.

"You sound tired," Parker said before the girl could interrupt further. "Go back to bed. Get some rest." Her voice quietened – though she could not make it softer – as she said, "Goodnight, Indiana."

"Goodnight, mom," Indiana replied, her voice already rough in anticipation of returning to sleep, and shut the bedroom door quietly on her way out.

Parker ejected the disc and returned it to the box. Though she would have liked nothing more than to destroy the box and its contents, to never have to look at it again, she jammed it in a drawer of her chest of drawers, and slammed the drawer shut. Then she snapped her laptop lid shut and deposited it on top of her chest of drawers.

She knew that she was never going to sleep tonight after that, but she lay down and forced her eyes shut anyway. But the darkness was worse than the weak light of her bedside lamp.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	45. Chapter 45

River sipped her milkshake. When she'd finished the cold drink, she stood up and walked to the trash. She had just emptied the items on her McDonald's tray into the trash and placed the tray down on top of the trash with a pile of other trays, when she noticed a thirty-something woman with a baby. But the woman wasn't alone. Another woman was sitting across from her.

Debbie, River vaguely remembered she had been called. She'd met Debbie the day she'd met Reagan.

The woman sitting with Debbie laughed, and Debbie smiled too. They must have been friends.

River turned away from the trash and walked away.

* * *

When it was getting beyond a joke, and Raines had still not spoken, Denis decided that they should send Ocee in to talk to him rather than a psychiatrist.

Ocee did not object when she was told what she was to do, but when she stepped into the room, she became very still, frowning at the young man across the room.

* * *

Ocee frowned. They had told her that she would be going to see the Healer to talk, though they did not say what she should talk about, but when she had come into the room all she had seen was a young man. Except the young man was the Healer who had Healed her, her Empathy told her as much.

Slowly, she crossed the room, and pulled out a chair from the table. She placed the chair in front of the young man and sat down. All of a sudden, she didn't know what to say.

"You're an Empath," the young man spoke abruptly. For some reason, he had spoken with a British accent.

"Yes," Ocee agreed.

The young man made a face. "I want to go home," he said.

Ocee frowned, and thought for a moment. "This is home," she told him.

Abruptly, the young man started to cry. Great blubbery tears.

Ocee stared.

* * *

River was coming out of the employee toilets when she noticed a young man with red hair standing in front of the ticket kiosk. She felt her stomach fall.

"Th-thanks," Reagan stammered, and walked away.

Anna rolled her eyes. "F-fanks," she imitated, watching Reagan walk away. He was a creep. He sounded creepy, and he acted creepy. Even the way he had pulled his sleeves over his hands was creepy.

River glanced at Anna quickly, though Anna did not notice her, and quickly followed Reagan.

* * *

Reagan pushed the door open and walked into the men's toilets, and River didn't even hesitate as she followed him inside.

"What are you doing here?" she spat disgustedly.

Reagan spun about. River wasn't sure he had recognised her voice, or whether he had just recognised that her voice was not male. "River," he said.

River glared, feeling sick. She saw the dark bruises and scabbed over abrasions, a few cuts, and she didn't feel the least bit sorry.

"I came to s-swim," Reagan told her.

River laughed raucously. Without warning, she launched herself at him and slammed him up against the wall.

Reagan stared at her in surprise. "I s-swear!"

River could not believe he had lied to her face. And he was still doing it! She was so upset, she could barely think or breathe. She started to punch him.

And then she was lying on the hard floor, Reagan planted firmly on top of her, holding her down. He was stronger than her, of course.

Suddenly, she started to scream and struggle and scream.

Reagan lay down on top of her and plastered a hand over her mouth.

Her screams were instantly muffled. She stared back into Reagan's overlarge blue eyes and knew she was going to die. Tears filled her eyes, but she would not let them leave. She would not cry in front of Reagan!

In a small corner of her mind, she thought how someone would come in and find them soon. People came in and out of the toilets and changing rooms all the time, so why not now?

She started to struggle again, and somehow she got an arm free and flipped Reagan onto his back so that their roles were reversed. Quickly, she put her hands around his throat and squeezed with all her strength.

But Reagan did not stop her.

The small victory brought a feeling of strange satisfaction, spurring her on. He'd hurt her and now he'd know exactly what it felt like. She tightened her grip. But she wasn't the only one he'd hurt. He'd hurt Indiana too. And he'd come here to find someone else to hurt. He wouldn't stop. He would never stop. Not on his own. He'd lie and play-act and manipulate, just like he'd lied to her just know. Just like he'd manipulated her. She wouldn't let him do that again. A bubble of laughter rose in her throat, but it came out strangled. _How strange,_ she thought.

She tore herself from her thoughts and stared down at Reagan gasping for breath. _I can't let you hurt me again,_ she told him silently. _I'm sorry._

She frowned suddenly. What was she thinking? She wasn't sorry! _You hurt me and humiliated me, now it's your turn. It's as simple as that._

And then the noise stopped. And Reagan stopped too.

River squeezed her hands tighter, just for a few moments, then she took her hands from around his neck. Her hands were sore. She got to her feet. Her legs were shaking. The rest of her was shaking too. But Reagan wasn't shaking at all.

She stood there, transfixed in horror at what she had done, and she started to cry.

"Oh my God!" It was Anna.

She'd seen River go into the toilets, but she hadn't been paying attention. It was only until she'd been sitting behind her counter with nothing to do that she had remembered seeing River duck into the men's toilets, and she'd become suddenly curious. What could River be doing in there? And now she knew what River had been doing.

River only continued to cry, and Anna ran over to her, but she was not running over to comfort her at all.

She fell down beside Reagan and tried desperately to remember anything from the CPR she'd learnt in school, or even something from the ridiculous chart tacked up in her cramped kiosk.

Some time later, she shouted at River to ring the ambulance, and River did as she was told, crying again because Anna had shouted at her like that.

Then she was tucked up in bed, crying. Anna had not told on her. She had to be grateful for that, at least. But she was not crying because Anna could have told, she was crying because she could have killed Reagan. He had stopped breathing. She had made him stop breathing. And then she'd just stood there.

She could have stopped Anna from going to him, she realised. She could have put her arms around her and held her tightly. Or she could have told her what Reagan had done to Indiana. She could have lied and said that Reagan had tried to rape her too. She could have just not rung the ambulance when Anna had shouted at her. And then he'd be dead. He'd have stayed dead.

She didn't even know if he was alive or dead now.

She cried harder. She'd liked it. She realised that now. She'd liked the feeling. She'd liked hurting Reagan. She could remember thinking that even though what she was doing was wrong, it was for the right reason. And she'd liked it. She could finally be with Reagan, she could finally hold him, and it wasn't wrong, and all of the guilt she had felt before just disappeared, because she'd known all along that this was how it was going to end. That it was the only way.

But that didn't sound right. She didn't know what was real anymore. She curled up into a ball and wished it would all just go away.

* * *

_Sydney__ frowned. Hands on his hips, he turned to Raines, annoyed. They were lost!_

_Raines shook his head and offered him the map, which Sydney snatched away and turned the right way around. If he had just given him the map in the first place, they wouldn't be in this predicament! He made a heavy sigh and dropped his eyes to the map in his hands. They needed to get their bearings, figure out where they were in the building, and go from there._

_For a moment, Sydney perused the map, more and more confused by the second, then he just gaped at the title printed at the top of the map, slowly turning red in the face._

_Raines peered at him expectantly._

"_This is the wrong map!" Sydney exploded. Raines had been reading the wrong map all along. The map he had been looking at wasn't even for a building in this city!_

_Raines frowned, but Sydney snatched the map out of his reach before he could move to take it, and turned and stormed away, scrunching the map into a ball as he went. He didn't wait for Raines to catch up. The conference had already started. They had wasted an entire trip!_

_Later, Raines found him sitting in the small café and gift shop. Fuming, Sydney watched Raines stroll over to the table where he was sitting, and take a seat opposite him._

_Sydney__ glared at the Director of Med Space pin Raines wore that had once belonged to Jacob and hated him._

_It was only after Raines had bought them coffees on company credit that he mentioned that he had asked at the front desk and been told where the conference was being held._

_Inside, Sydney wanted to kill him. He wanted Sydney to miss this conference! He wanted him to make a fool of himself!_

_With the instructions Raines had been given, they finally managed to find the right place. Sydney had three lectures to take, and Raines made a nice little speech talking up the company, started numerous debates, and was almost punched. Disturbingly, Sydney suspected that he enjoyed making a trouble of himself and embarrassing them both._

_As they were leaving, Raines stopped at the gift shop to buy a box of sweets for one of his girlfriends._

_The next day, Sydney was pleased to see that the sweets mustn't have gone down well with the girlfriend, because he spotted Angelo sitting in Commons eating them._

* * *

Sydney sighed, choosing another item from the box file he was looking through. Whether or not Raines really was her father, he was glad Parker displayed more directional sense than Raines had.

* * *

Raines was leant against the corridor wall, talking rapidly to Angelo, who did not appear to understand. He was talking about a conference he had been to out of town, shaking his head or rolling his eyes or frowning as he talked. Then he sighed, apparently finished.

Angelo frowned. He still didn't understand.

Raines leant forward, stepping away from the wall, and handed Angelo a cellophane-wrapped box containing sugared jellies. Then he walked away. Clearly, he had somewhere he needed to be.

Angelo stared at the box with an accusing frown for a long moment, and then he smiled. The box was for him.

Jarod frowned too. _Strange DSA,_ he thought, and put in another DSA.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	46. Chapter 46

Peel was sipping his McDonald's coffee when the sound of a woman's laughter caused him to look up. For a moment, he did not recognise the woman. She was wearing a yellow dress. But then he recognised her face. It was that whore who had embarrassed him!

There was nobody sitting with her, so he didn't know why she was laughing. She was mentally ill or on drugs, he concluded, until he saw the little boy with her, but he didn't need a Healer to tell him who was the boy's father.

He sat there, unable to move. That crazy woman had had a child – his son – though she had not thought to inform him, and now she was bringing him up!

For a moment, all he could think of was how much he wanted to kill her, but then the feeling passed, and he realised that he had to do something. He had to take his child off this whore before she inflicted lasting damage!

As if sensing that his father was near, the little boy began to cry.

The whore calmed him quickly, then she stood up with him in her arms, and walked outside.

Peel did not finish his coffee.

* * *

Robin was a Tower Sweeper. Peel had told him that he needed him to make a snatch, but not why, though he told him that when he was ready to make the snatch, he wanted him to take Astrid with him, and he'd introduced the Tower Sweeper to the nurse.

Astrid usually worked in the Nursery, but she was a Tower nurse, and Peel and she had met before when Shalla had been born, and Peel had met her again when Imo and Ariel had been born.

* * *

Reagan had been stable but unconscious for two days, though he was awake now. Debbie now stood beside his bed and explained why he was in hospital, but most importantly that he would be fine.

Reagan listened to what she had to say, but he did not seem very interested.

Debbie had seen the bruising around his neck when he had come in, though it had only become more pronounced over the course of his stay. It looked as though someone had tried to strangle him.

"How did you get those?" Debbie now asked. The pattern of bruising was clearly separated into two distinct forms. The would-be strangler had used two hands.

"W-w-walked into a door," Reagan said dismissively, and entirely unbelievably.

Debbie said nothing to this. He also had extensive bruising over his body, though it looked to be older, along with numerous scrapes and cuts. She did not ask about these. She simply turned and walked away.

"I d-d-don't like hospitals," Reagan said to her back. "I want to l-l-leave."

Debbie stopped at the door and turned back to face him, her face firm. She could say that she wanted to keep him in for another day for observation, but she could not keep him longer. Beside, there were others who might need his bed. So she nodded.

* * *

Reagan didn't know what he was doing at the day care centre until he saw the toddler. He had been standing around, watching kids doing kiddie things and humming _My Sharona_ and Elvis, when he'd noticed the Tower Sweeper. Then he'd seen him go for the toddler and tears had come to his eyes, though he wasn't sure why. A woman was with the toddler, and Reagan realised that she was a Tower nurse. He knew what he, what they – they were working together – meant to do now, but the tears confused him.

Reagan was strangely frozen in place. He did not move to stop them, but instead watched them walk out the door with the toddler. Then he watched them load him into a five-seater four wheel drive. All the while with those stupid tears in his eyes, as though at his own inactivity and uselessness.

And then he realised why they wanted the toddler and the tears started to run down his face, and he suddenly lurched forward, springing in front of the 4WD as it pulled out of the parking space it had been occupying and made its way toward the exit.

He didn't even see the gun or the silencer. For a moment, he looked into the Sweeper's eyes – on the backseat the toddler blinked – and then he felt oddly dizzy. The 4WD turned out of the parking lot and Reagan collapsed.

As they drove away, the toddler turned and stared at the fabric covering the backseat, but neither the Tower nurse nor the Tower Sweeper took any notice of this.

* * *

The young Empaths eyed Xaris for a moment, thinking it strange that he had just collapsed right in the corridor and right where they had been about to walk.

"Is he dead?" one 13-year-old girl asked interestedly.

"I don't think so," another girl answered. The older – Empath? – was spooky. She didn't want to stay near him.

"Oh!" the first girl replied, a little put out.

He was wearing grey, just like the girls were, the second girl thought, so he must have been an Empath. She frowned at the cards he wore suspended from a cord on a belt strap, along with a biomech she supposed functioned as his ID. Strangely, his ident string was written on one of the laminated cards with his biomech. She pulled on the first girl's arm. "I want to go!"

"We'll be late for our lesson," a third girl agreed from behind the pair.

The first girl stepped around the older Empath gingerly and the others followed. They really would be late for their lesson if they stayed any longer.

* * *

As they were rounding the corner to the room in which they took this particular lesson, the first girl, whose name was Rodnee, slowed. "Do you think he'll be alright?" she wondered aloud.

The second girl glanced at her, but the other girls streamed around her and quickly joined the rest of their classmates inside their classroom, and reluctantly, the second girl tagged along, following them inside.

But Rodnee stayed exactly where she was.

Then she turned and ran back to the spot where she had last seen the older Empath. He had not moved.

She wasn't sure what she should do, so she lowered herself to the floor and crossed her legs. She would wait for someone to come along and discover them there, she supposed. Then she could tell them what had happened, and she could tell them that was why she hadn't gone to her lesson. The others would have started their first activity already, and she wished she were with them – with Tal, Ashley, Deana, and Endora (who was going to change her name to Samantha or Sabrina) – instead of in this corridor.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	47. Chapter 47

When Debbie first heard about the young man who had come in with a gunshot wound, she did not think anything of it. _A madman,_ she thought briefly. The police must have intervened in whatever activity the madman had been engaged, and he had ended up with his gunshot wound.

At noon she set off for the cafeteria. She'd brought her own packed lunch, a sandwich, so she bought a coffee quickly, and sat down to eat her sandwich, thinking about calling her boyfriend.

She had finished her sandwich and had almost done the same with her cafeteria coffee when a colleague approached her and told her about the young man who had come in earlier in the day. He was her patient wasn't he? She'd just discharged him – wow – less than 24 hours ago, wasn't it?

Debbie stared at the woman. A nurse from the cancer ward. "Ginger hair, yeah?" she heard herself say.

The woman nodded. She shook her head and said something that Debbie didn't catch before leaving to get a coffee herself.

Debbie stood from the table as though on automatic and walked out of the cafeteria, then she walked to the information desk in the emergency waiting room, and asked the young woman behind the desk about Reagan. The young woman gave her a funny look, but Debbie didn't notice.

Her lunch break was nearly up, so she ran to the elevator and hit the button for the floor Reagan was on.

When she reached the room the young woman at the desk had said he was in, Reagan was unconscious or asleep. But Debbie didn't go inside.

* * *

"_You okay, darl?"_

_The voice sounded strange and far away._

_Debbie thought it was strange, how she felt as though she had to answer, though she didn't know why. "I'm okay," she said. But she wasn't._

_The man was watching her, she knew, and she wanted to tell him everything, but suddenly she didn't know what to say. She couldn't remember anything._

_She was frightened. She wanted her mom to hug her, the way the moms on the television hugged their children when they were afraid. She wondered if she'd asked before if her mom would have hugged her, but her mom wasn't going to hug anyone anymore._

_Instead the man was talking to her, and she saw something shiny, then the shiny thing was in her hand. It was a pin. _Lin's pin,_ she thought distantly, as though recalling something from a past life. And then she felt herself nod, because the man had said something about being brave._

_Then she stood up and slowly walked out of the room. The man might have said something to her, but she didn't understand the words. She just kept walking. She couldn't stop walking. She was sure that if she did, something bad would happen, though she almost wanted to laugh, because something bad had already happened._

_She picked up the telephone and punched in the three digit number. The little speaker in the telephone said something to her, but she said: "Ambulance please."_

_She told the telephone that it was her mom. Her mom needed the ambulance, 'cept her mom couldn't come to the telephone to ask. Then she told the telephone where she was. The telephone said something to her then, but she hung up and slid down the wall. Sitting on the floor, pressed against the wall, she remembered the pin in her hand. Her hand was shaking as she carefully fixed it to her school dress, but she didn't think about her hand shaking. Instead, she thought about the mirror in the bathroom. She wondered what she would look like wearing the pin._

_She started to stand, and then she walked down the hallway, thinking about the bathroom, but she stopped when she saw the man trying to make her mom start breathing again._

_She didn't want to, she really didn't want to, and she had made the man think she wouldn't, but she found her legs moving even though she didn't want them to, and then she was standing in her mom's bedroom._

_Debbie knew that her mom was dead, though somehow the man didn't seem to know the same thing, and Debbie knew she had to tell him._

_She thought the man might say something to her, because she was staring, and she was in her mom's bedroom with her mom who was dead, but he didn't._

_And then Debbie screamed as the butter knife on the floor beside her shot up off the floor into the air, and other things too, not just the butter knife. But Debbie forgot all about the butter knife, or any of the other things, because there was a funny bright light standing in her mom's bedroom, right next to her mom, and Debbie could not see the man because the light thing was standing in the way._

_The light was pulsing strangely, as though trying to say something to her, or another light thing. She frowned. She wanted to wave her arms about or something, try to communicate with the light thing, but she knew the man would tell her to stay perfectly still. If she waved her arms about, the light thing might think she was trying to hurt it and get scared, and then it might hurt her._

_She was watching the strange light thing, when it suddenly seemed to shrink, and it wasn't a strange light thing anymore, but the man, and he swayed a little bit and fell over sideways._

_Ignoring the butter knife that was stuck precariously in the ceiling, Debbie dashed forward and fell down next to the man. She didn't want him to be dead. He was her only friend._

_Then she heard the sirens. She wasn't sure how long it had been since the light thing had disappeared, but she didn't seem to register the time at all._

_The man seemed to wake up a little bit when he heard the sirens, and he stood up and walked to the front of the house to open the door for the ambulance people. Debbie followed him to the door. And then the ambulance people had taken her mom, and her mom was alive which Debbie hadn't noticed before._

_Debbie heard a woman tell her that they were going to take her mom to hospital, she was going to be fine, and her dad and her could even visit her there later. For a moment, it struck Debbie that she should correct the woman – the man was not her father, he was her mom's social worker, but then she remembered how the man had taken her to school for the first time when she was eight, and how he had found out who her dad was and rang him up to tell him he had a daughter, how he'd given her dad the number to ring back, even though he wasn't supposed to, and she wasn't supposed to have heard, but her dad hadn't rung back yet – and she didn't say anything._

_Then the ambulance and her mom left._

_The man hugged her and told her her mom would be fine, and Debbie remembered how he'd called her mom Allie, and she believed him._

_The man was quiet for a long time after that, and then he remembered that it was nearly dinnertime. Debbie thought he sounded funny when he talked, like he had drunken too much, but she knew that he didn't drink because he was diabetic, so he wasn't supposed to drink alcohol, even though she didn't know why._

_Later, when the man was asleep, Debbie walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water, and she tried not to look at the cutlery sticking out of the ceiling._

* * *

Debbie walked away from the room. It was time to go back to work.

* * *

Anna was 19, the same age as River, with dyed blonde hair. River had once heard her say to a man that she was Greek, like the dip, though River supposed she had still been working off the alcohol from last night's party when she'd said that. It wasn't as though Anna usually even spoke to the cleaning staff, and she always complained that their uniforms were dreadful. River was sure she would never have said half the things she'd said had she been sober, not even for a dare. "Oh I do like that! A man in uniform." Not to mention that the man was more than double her age, probably in his early to mid forties.

So River hoped that Anna would forget all about what she and Reagan had been doing in the toilets. But that was not what happened.

She had just changed into her cleaning uniform and was stepping out of the staff toilets when Anna pushed her back inside, her half dark blue eyes and half light blue eyes fixed to River.

"What the hell were you doing?" Anna now demanded, holding River against the wall.

"It was just a game," River lied, her face growing hot. She could push Anna backward and leave if she wanted, but then Anna would probably spill her guts to the boss and River would either be fired, or in a lot of trouble.

"Well, it didn't look like a game to me!" Anna told her angrily.

River wanted to hit her across the face. "Look, he wanted it okay!" she fired up. "I was just doing what he wanted."

Anna laughed stupidly. "You could have killed him! Don't you get it? He'd still be fucking dead – whether he wanted it or not!"

Tears stung in River's eyes. "I didn't mean it!" she shouted at Anna. "I didn't know! I didn't know he would-!" She started to cry. She didn't want to remember that. She just wanted to forget, to pretend it never happened, and go on.

Anna stepped away from her. "Well, he'll live," she said tonelessly. "I went and asked at the hospital, and they said he'll live."

River didn't say anything, and Anna left.

* * *

Thora had dropped Mungo off at the day care centre that morning, but when she had gone to pick him up this afternoon, they had said her boy wasn't there, and then when she had asked what they meant, they had said that her boy had not come in that morning, that she was the liar. Which was how she'd come to be sitting in an interrogation room of the Blue Cove Police Department.

She wanted to shout at the policeman and shake him. Her little boy was missing! But her lawyer would say no, and he or she would be coming soon.

Before she'd come to this room, she'd been at the front desk. She had a Missing Person to report. Someone, an officer, she supposed, had asked her some questions and noted her responses.

Whilst she'd been waiting, trying to convince herself that the police were the good guys, that they would help her, the day care centre had denied that she'd brought Mungo in that morning, even though she always brought him in on that day, every week. Then they produced video documentation.

The officer started to repeat questions. Thora stopped answering. She'd told him all that already.

The officer had a colleague look her up in the system. The system reported back: No record found.

The lawyer was late. The officer watched her from across the table, his eyes hard. She'd made her baby disappear. He knew she'd done it, he just didn't know how yet. Or why.

Thora waited for the lawyer anxiously.

The officer started to ask strange questions. Would she say she was a good parent? Had she had any complaints about her parenting skills? How was she patience wise? Was she a patient person? A calm person? Had she ever upset her child? Spoken to him sharply perhaps? They could be a handful at that age. They could get so needy. It must have been stressful. Work and a kid. Had she ever not changed him when he needed changing? Or fed him? Maybe just once?

Thora didn't understand what was happening. What was wrong with him? Why was he saying those things? Her chest hurt. She would never ever hurt her little boy!

The officer kept going, just kept talking.

So she had to make him stop. She was unrestrained. She leapt across the table and put her hand over his mouth. Just to make him stop.

* * *

She had assaulted an officer. She was violent. It was all the ammunition they needed to take her into custody.

A detective was called in. Meanwhile, the officer started making phone calls.

Hathora Connor. Canadian. 35. Single parent. Studied and trained as a nurse. She'd been put out of work twice because she'd failed to inform her employers of a medical condition. She was epileptic, and she suffered from asthma.

The lawyer arrived.

They'd acquired a few answers, but there were more questions: What had she been doing in between McDonald's and the current cleaning job at Bay Mall? How was she financially? Did she pay her bills on time? Was she religious? What about the boy's father?

The lawyer advised her not to speak. Thora ignored the lawyer. Someone had taken her little boy. She would never ever hurt her little boy!

The officer fixed her with a hard stare. If she was going to say that she'd dropped him off at day care that morning, he was telling her she was a liar. They had obtained video footage from the day care that proved her _wrong_!

Thora couldn't breathe. She forced the feeling away. "I don't know why they would say that," she said, struggling to think clearly, "but my little boy is missing, and I didn't-"

"You made him go missing," the officer told her coldly.

The lawyer made a face. He explained to Thora that the officer had no ground to stand on saying that, and if he was going to maintain this attack-

"No!" Thora told him.

He fell silent.

This outburst only seemed to bolster the officer's opinion of her.

"I did not arrange for my child to go missing, nor for any harm to come to him," Thora told the officer in a hard voice.

* * *

The police went around to Thora's apartment, and asked a few questions. Had anyone seen the little boy with his mother earlier in the day?

They'd heard some strange noises from the residence next door, one of Thora's neighbours told the police, last night, that was when it they'd heard it, like a small child in pain, but they'd dismissed it as something on the television. The neighbour had the television up too loud, that was all. But now they weren't so sure.

They'd heard a lot of strange noises from that place, another neighbour reported. And you never saw the kid's father. The woman was some kind of witch, the way she dressed, and that jewellery she wore.

But none of the neighbours had seen the little boy at all that day.

The police left the shabby apartment building and searched the trash outside, where they found the carcass of a dead animal, probably a cat, and the bin was for Thora's apartment.

Thora told the officer that she had no idea how the dead animal had ended up in her trash.

An officer had been around to the day care centre again and one of the mother's there reported seeing bruises on the little boy, maybe even some scratches.

A judge was called and a warrant issued to search Thora's apartment.

* * *

A few years back, Thora had been admitted to a mental facility out of state, though instead of Hathora Connor, she'd been known as Marlena, no last name given. She'd suffered from delusions and she had actively harmed herself, but she'd escaped from the facility not soon after being admitted.

When they searched her apartment, they found it filled with Satanist artefacts, trinkets and symbols and all sorts of devil-worshipping mumbo jumbo.

* * *

Debbie assumed that the police had come because of Reagan, questions, that sort of thing, but the moment the policeman mentioned that she was listed as Thora's next of kin, she knew she'd been wrong.

The policeman explained that a kid was missing. Mungo Connor. A baby really, ten months old.

Debbie felt herself go stiff, and then she felt angry. And then she wasn't angry anymore, she just knew she was going to kill whoever had taken Mungo. She was going to take a gun and shoot them dead. For a moment, she thought about the gun the policeman was carrying. It was all she could think about.

And then she was angry again, but she knew that she was angry, and she was scared too, because she knew that she could kill whoever had taken Mungo, if she was given the chance, and she was so scared, because she never wanted to kill another human being.

The policeman was asking her why she was listed as Thora's next of kin.

She told him that they were friends. Thora was her best friend.

Then the policeman asked her if she had been aware of her best friend's religious beliefs, and he told her about the carcass in the trash and the decapitated mice in the freezer.

Debbie wanted to be sick. "No," she said.

* * *

Indiana was thinking about her favourite soapie, which she had been watching in her bedroom instead of doing her homework, except now it was over, and she was thirsty, so she was walking downstairs to the kitchen. But she didn't go into the kitchen because there was a policeman at the front door.

Her mom was talking to the policeman, and then her mom shut the door.

"What was that about?" Indiana asked, still thirsty.

Her mom looked at her for a moment, and then she said: "He wanted me to make a donation to some fund… or something." She shook her head. "I said no thanks."

"Why not?" Indiana asked.

Her mom frowned. "Why?"

Indiana made a face. "Because you can. It's not like we're poor or anything."

Her mom shook her head and walked off past her.

Indiana stomped into the kitchen.

* * *

She flopped back on her bed and switched the television back on, flipping through channels. A photograph was posted on the news. Indiana couldn't hear what the news reported was saying, but she could read the message under the photograph that said: _MISSING_. And then the police were talking, and there was a hotline to contact for anyone who might have any information, or might have seen the little boy in the last 24 hours.

Indiana grabbed the remote and turned the sound up. The little boy's name was Mungo. At this point in time, the police were not sure how long Mungo had been missing. His mother had reported him missing in the afternoon, but she was now being investigated for possible links to the little boy's disappearance. They flashed a picture of the mother.

Indiana frowned. It was a while before she realised who the woman reminded her of. When the story was over, the news reporter smiled. Then another story came on.

_Emily__,_ Indiana thought, a strange buzzing filling her head.

She leapt off her bed. There, she still had the pin. Emily's pin. A shooting star.

She walked back to her bed and crossed her legs on the mattress. She muted the volume on the television. She wasn't particularly interested in Sport.

She gazed at the pin laying in her palm for a while, and then she sprung off her bed again, dropping it on the nightstand.

She had to brush her teeth and go to bed. Plus, she was sleepy.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	48. Chapter 48

Peel made a note of the bruises on the little boy. He had heard from the news that he was named Mungo. It was not a name he would have chosen for his child, but still, it was a name the boy would be familiar with, though the child did not seem distressed by the strange new people he had met, nor with Peel himself.

This pleased the Tower doctor.

He was also pleased to note that the Tower Sweepers had done their jobs right, not that the Centre didn't have the Blue Cove P.D. comfortably in line, all of the department that mattered anyhow.

He would take the boy home, Peel decided. The mother – Hathora, the news had said her name was, so not Sasha after all – would soon be locked up for the boy's murder, and in a year or two, he wouldn't even have to hide the boy. He'd rename him – something starting with a _c_ – Clyde or Coyle perhaps? Maybe even Cadman? The boy wouldn't even remember his mother.

* * *

As he walked away, Marvin could hear the sounds of the party slowly fading away. It was much quieter at this end of the school, and Marvin stood in the sterile corridor and thought back on all the years he had spent in this school. Years ago, he had been a teacher at Misery P-12, teaching Math to seventh grade through twelfth grade students.

Trying the door, he found it open, and stepped outside. The air was cooler outside, and the sky was clear, the moon illuminating the school grounds and the new pool.

It had been put in just this year, and it was the only pool in Misery. Marvin found himself walking that way. It couldn't hurt to take a look, he supposed, and he was not yet ready to go back inside. The night was for the kids really. There was little use for a retired 80-something overweight Math teacher.

It wasn't as though any of them had ever really liked him, he thought of the kids he had taught over the years.

Except for one. For a moment, the thought struck him as strange. At least once a week, the kid had found some way to wind Marvin up and start an argument that got him thrown out of class. Still, it was probably true, Marvin reflected, given what the FBI had had to say about the boy's relationship with his father.

Marvin thought about this for a long moment. He had hated the boy from the first moment he had heard about him, without even setting eyes upon him, even before he had become his teacher.

The boy was Lyle's son. He hated Lyle too. Because Elsie had married Lyle. Elsie loved Lyle, and she loved the boy too because he was theirs. But Marvin loved Elsie, so he could not help but hate Bobby.

And when Bobby became his student, Marvin would dread the thought of Bobby's class. The boy did not pay attention, nor did he take instruction, often failing to complete his homework, and frequently writing nonsense instead; even going so far as to shut Marvin out altogether. Marvin could not honestly say that the boy had spent equal parts time in his class as in the Principal's office, having just come from his class.

Still, the boy had probably been the only student to really challenge him, Marvin thought, and it was during those times that he had realised that the boy did know more than Marvin gave him credit for, and Marvin actually found himself following the boy, though he would never admit such. There were moments when the boy could actually make him understand something he had not understood before, moments when Marvin realised that just maybe his class meant more to Bobby than it did to the other kids, more than just stupid or boring or hard.

And sometimes the boy had scared him, as though there was this thing inside that he needed to make come out just to be able to think again, the fluency and clarity with which he had taken to a problem and task, and in Marvin's head he could see how much more sense it made, but it was not the right way, and Marvin could not miss an opportunity to tell the boy he was wrong, though he had told himself that he was just doing his job. Now he wondered if he had been right.

These thoughts troubled him, so he pushed them away, and cast his eyes across the glistening surface of the pool, slate flat in the wind-still night, unblemished but for the small form of a human figure floating almost absently face down in the water.

At first Marvin thought it was a student, but as he drew nearer he realised that he had been wrong.

The small woman was also a retired teacher, they were about the same age, he thought, but Sunny had taught Music and Drama. Of the teachers, Sunny had been the only who had really liked Bobby, which had meant that she and Marvin had often disagreed, but Marvin knew that Sunny had never really looked upon him with the same disdain as the other teachers.

He was tolerated, because he, like the other teachers, was employed also and had to share the same school, but he was not someone to befriend or discuss with. Where the other teachers commanded him or took command, Sunny negotiated. She talked about things. She asked people what their opinions were and told them hers. She was a pain and she dressed like a hippy, sometimes she even talked like one, but she was alive, and she knew what it meant to live. She understood when to compromise, and when to take control, and she was always willing to cooperate with someone else who could cooperate, to work together and as a team instead of just putting up barriers from which to blindly obey or stupidly command.

Marvin frowned, because he could see now that the woman was Sunny. That she had Sunny's hair and Sunny's face and Sunny's body. Sunny had liked him, he realised strangely. And hadn't she always been there? Though he'd never seen. He'd never wanted to see. Because she had not been Elsie.

He felt something strange rise up in his chest.

Sunny was dead.

* * *

When Marvin woke, he did not remember going to sleep, yet he must have. The party was over. A strange feeling came over him then as he realised why he knew that the party was over. Because he could hear it!

He started to shiver. He was wet, and the night was cooler now. He opened his eyes and let the wilted rays of moonlight pour into his eyes. With sudden surprising clarity, he realised that he was not alone. There was someone with him.

Panic took root inside his chest, and he rolled over.

Like him, the girl was wet.

For an infinite moment in which he thought the universe might have been created and destroyed, and created and destroyed, again, and again, and again; a moment that might not have lasted long enough to be known, yet that it had passed and so was known thus, he knew that he had changed, and that the girl had changed too.

He leapt to his feet and staggered backward. He had changed her! Somehow, it had all been him. Because the girl had been old before, and now she was not, and neither was he.

The girl coughed.

_It's Sunny,_ Marvin thought arrestingly, backed up against the high wire fence surrounding the pool. The fence had been put in for safety reasons, Marvin recalled. There was some regulation that said that if someone bought a pool, they had to buy a fence too. If he just stayed by the fence, he would be safe.

16-year-old Sunny coughed again.

* * *

Thora screamed, struggling in the hold of five psychiatric nurses. An officer had just been to see her to tell her that, whilst they had not found her boy, they had found enough blood to suggest that the boy was dead.

Thora had let herself be led back to the TV room, but halfway there she had made a run for it. She just wanted to hold her little boy!

A doctor sedated her and she was taken to her room to rest. They called it _her_ room! The thought crossed her mind limply but she was too sedated to care.

The next day, she was allowed to go back to the TV room. She sat on a chair facing the television and stared blankly at the wall.

"I know what you are," a male voice breathed at her back.

Thora did not blink.

They'd made her wear their horrible clothes, and they'd told her she was a bad person, and they'd made her swallow pills and they'd stuck needles into her. They said her little boy was dead, and they said she'd done it. They'd even taken her badge away from her, and some of the staff called her witch.

* * *

Reagan was transferred from the hospital to the Center. Peel had to think fast to come up with a suitable lie to tell Denis, and later he had a word with Robin for his stupidity. He should have known that Reagan was Center property, and surely shooting him was not the only option, merely the convenient option he guessed.

What he would say to Reagan when he woke was going to be slightly more complicated than the lie he had told Denis, Peel conceded with lack of enthusiasm, because Reagan was an Empath. Peel had a feeling the boy had not just happened to be there by chance either, and he wanted to know what Reagan had been doing there. He would have to wait for Reagan to regain consciousness, however.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	49. Chapter 49

Mungo Connor's funeral was attended by Debbie, as Thora's best friend, Broots, Paulie and Anton, a few of Thora's colleagues from Bay Mall who also cleaned, the restaurant manager from the McDonald's branch Thora had worked at years ago, Cox, who remembered Thora from her time working at McCafé, two of Cox's nurses, Cherry and Plum, whose real name was Max, Plum's three children, Parker, Sydney, and Sam, Midori, a group of L5 Sweepers – Calum, Mickey, Adrian, Maria, and Dewy – Maria's daughter, Olivia, a couple of colleagues from Debbie's own workplace where Thora had once worked as a nurse, though they were there in support of Debbie and not Thora, a small group of churchgoers who had come out of a show of anti-devil-worshipping or something, Debbie couldn't remember exactly, a few of the mothers from Mungo's day care, and few day care workers, a newspaper reporter and photographer, a tight knot of Japanese in suits, whom Midori was standing beside, and three Russians, who may or may not have been with the Japanese suits.

After the funeral service, Sam took Parker's arm as she was going to leave.

Parker frowned at him, and Sam shot her a serious look. Parker nodded and the pair took a walk along an aisle of the cemetery.

"This isn't going to work," Sam told her.

Parker frowned. She didn't understand what he meant.

Sam stopped and turned back to her, looking her full in the face. "I can't be your boyfriend," he said.

Parker stared at him.

Sam shook his head. He sighed heavily, realising what she was thinking. A kid had just died. They were standing in the middle of a cemetery. "I needed to tell you," he explained.

"I don't understand," Parker said.

Sam looked away from her. "Back then, I thought I loved you. But it's not the same anymore."

Parker shook her head. She could not believe she was hearing this!

Sam made a face. "Don't you see," Sam began painfully. "I thought I loved you because of our Convergence."

"I love you," Parker said.

Sam laughed. "You don't love me, Parker. But I know what you're thinking, and I wish that I loved you too. But I don't. I'm so sorry, but I don't."

Parker took a step toward him. Her eyes had filled with tears, but she didn't care. "I love you."

Sam shook his head. "No. You don't," he said, and he was almost ready to cry himself.

Tears ran down Parker's face. "What am I going to do?" she asked.

Sam wanted to put his arms around her and hold her, but he was afraid.

"I wanted to marry you," Parker told him.

Sam forced himself to listen to her.

It had been a long time ago, during his youth, he had met Parker, and they had fallen in love. He had thought that she was going to leave boarding school in Canada and that they would run away together and get married, maybe have some kids. But then she had left to go to Europe.

For a long time, he hadn't even known whether she was alive or dead.

"I did a stupid thing," Parker pleaded, "and I lost three people I loved. One of them was my best friend, one of them was you, and one of them was our baby." For a moment, Parker thought that she would collapse, but she just ran out of tears.

Sam stared at her, and then the tears in his eyes spilled down his face. "I'm sorry!" he shouted. And then he just cried.

Parker shook her head. She stepped forward and put her arms around him.

Sam only cried harder, because he suddenly understood why Lyle had loved Parker, because despite her own pain, it still hurt her to see those she cared about in pain, and she was able to reach out and just be there.

And there they stood, as the cemetery emptied, and they both knew that everything would never be the same again.

* * *

The woman sat staring at that same wall. The man had been watching her for some time. Every time, she sat in that same chair, or a different chair, in front of the television, and just stared at the wall.

In another life, he might not have noticed. In another life, the world might have been rushing by at an unnatural speed, with no time to notice such a small thing as another life slowly slipping away.

There she was, he noted. And then he thought, what if he just… did something?

So he walked around the chair she was seated in and knelt down before her so that he could look into her eyes, though she only looked through him. And then, without thinking, he took her hands up in his own, and heard himself speaking softly. "I'm Alex."

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	50. Chapter 50

**2021**

Alex was supposed to be in the TV room, but he had needed to go for a walk. He hadn't even known where her room was, so he hadn't done it on purpose. He'd been lost in his own head, and then he'd found himself gazing at the sign indicating Seclusion, and he'd just wondered if that was where they had taken her.

She'd stopped coming to the TV room, he knew. It was strange, but he guessed he'd missed her. He'd just sort of noticed that she had stopped coming to the TV room, and he'd noticed the day after that too. Even in his former life, he hadn't connected with others well, but this was different. He didn't really understand it himself.

She wasn't in a room in Seclusion itself, but in a room off Seclusion. The room looked different to the other patient rooms, and in the middle of it all was the woman. Alex didn't know her first name, but he had heard some of the staff call her witch when she had still been attending the TV room, and it had made him wonder what she had done to be put away.

In his former life, he had been a Pretender, working for the Tower, who themselves worked for the Center Corporation.

When he had first met her, he had sensed something about her. She possessed the anomaly too. It was the anomaly that made him a Pretender, but the anomaly didn't only manifest itself in one form or expression, rather a suite of expressions. The same anomaly, but different expressions.

And he had thought that this woman was an Empath.

There was movement from within the room, and he realised that the woman was not alone. Cautiously, he moved closer to the door.

He noted two men in white lab coats, and the woman lying motionless on the bed. She was strapped down, though Alex could tell that she was either heavily sedated or unconscious. The men were either doctors or scientists, he decided. Nurses did not wear lab coats. They might have been consultants, he supposed.

As he watched, one of the lab-coated men stopped beside the woman's bed. Alex frowned. It looked as though the man was administering something via injection, though he couldn't be certain from his vantage point.

Then, as the man turned away from the bed approvingly, he caught sight of the small white pin the man wore under his lab coat, pinned to a black lapel, and frowned. At least one of the men was a Tower doctor. His head started to hurt.

It didn't make sense. What interest did the Tower have in this woman? And why wasn't she at the Center?

His head continued to hurt as his anger rose. He had died, he remembered, and they had brought him back, but something had gone wrong, or maybe he had just had enough, and they had pumped him full of drugs and dumped him in here! _Big mistake!_

Stupidly, he ran at the door.

The second man was a Tower Sweeper. He also wasn't maxed out on sedatives and antipsychotics.

Gun pressed into his neck, he dragged Alex into the centre of the room.

The Tower doctor glanced at him with disapproval.

Alex felt sick.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" the Tower doctor said.

Alex glared at him.

The Tower doctor smiled and turned and glanced at the woman for a long moment. "Yummy."

Alex growled and lunged at him but was held back by the Tower Sweeper holding him.

The Tower doctor strode forward sharply and grabbed a handful of Alex's hair and threw him at the bed. "You need to relax," the Tower doctor told him. "Have some fun." He smiled again. "She doesn't mind."

The Tower Sweeper raised his gun to Alex's head, in case he was thinking about doing anything.

The Tower doctor took his hair again. "Fuck her, or we'll fuck you!" he hissed. "And trust me, it'll be so good, it'll blow your brains all over Sleeping Beauty here!"

* * *

Alex could hear the Tower doctor speaking. He was saying that he knew that he could trust Alex to keep this between the three of them, because if he didn't, he would just have to tell the staff how much Alex liked Sleeping fucking Beauty, and how he had raped her. After all, she had no way of defending herself, the poor girl was practically brain dead!

Alex stopped listening after that. He wanted to throw up.

Later, they upped his meds, and he was finally able to sleep.

* * *

Alex stared at the television blankly. The old Alex might have even liked what he'd done, he reflected, but he'd hated it. But the worst part of all was that somewhere in between before and after, he'd stopped hating it, just for a little while, and that made it worse. It wasn't the same kind of like old Alex would have felt, old Alex would have liked the power, but he'd just liked the feeling.

He was staring at the television and he wanted to cry and be sick all at the same time. He knew that old Alex would have known exactly what to do at a time like this, but he wasn't old Alex.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	51. Chapter 51

Fulton fingered the dog tags she wore around her neck under all of her other clothes so that she could feel the metal on her skin. It wasn't that they had belonged to anyone she had loved, she had definitely not loved who they had belonged to, but they were the only link she had to her mysterious past.

She could remember the arguments she had had with the then Med Space Director. He had assigned her to Autopsy, though she was not a Medical Examiner, and she didn't want to do it. But he was Med Space Director.

He'd had a family once, she knew. A wife, and a son and daughter. But then the daughter had gone missing, and he had killed the wife. Everyone knew he had done it, but the company had come to his aid, and he'd gotten away with it – just like that. He'd cut her up, like a ripe mango. She must have screamed. But no one had come to her aid. Maybe he'd blamed her for the daughter. It didn't really matter once she was dead. And before that, he'd killed the Chairman's wife. Shot her through the head. And still the company had come.

Fulton knew all of this, and it did not make her feel especially comfortable wearing those dog tags everyday, but she could not take them off and throw them away – though she had had days when she had wanted to – because if she did, then it would be as if her past had never existed, except that it had.

Though the name on them was W. R. Raines, she knew they had been his – William Robert Raines's – though she did not know how they were connected, she and him, and when he had died, she had supposed that she never would, but she'd kept them, because – damn it!– he didn't need them anymore anyway.

She tucked the dog tags away out of sight, where they belonged, and went back to work.

* * *

The young man was dressed in a royal blue suit, a white shirt, and a maroon tie, reading glasses tucked into an inside pocket of his suit jacket. He wasn't particularly pleased, but the Tower doctor had wanted him to wear a suit, something that would project an ethos of seriousness. As it was, they were considered by the other branches as something of a running joke, he said.

The Tower doctor and he were going to a conference, Tower escort included, which turned out to be a Tower official named Mark, and a small group of Tower Sweepers. The Tower doctor had decided that two nurses should accompany him, so the nurses would also be coming.

Apparently, he was going to ensure the branch the extra funding it wanted. He almost asked if they were going to make him do magic tricks as well, but the Tower doctor didn't have much of a sense of humour, so he kept it to himself.

* * *

Fulton sighed. She was scheduled to attend a conference hosted at an expensive hotel casino for a couple of days, which meant that she had to finish up her list of autopsies and organise for the flight she had in the morning, which she was not looking forward to, and would be accompanied on by Deputy Director of Med Space, Dr. C. Reston.

* * *

Abe was standing in the elevator, going up or down whenever someone else stepped inside and hit a button to take them to a particular floor, but going nowhere in particular himself. He'd spent most of the day listening to Tower personnel vie for special funding for their various secret projects, on top of which he'd had no break in between coming off the plane from the airport and the beginning of the conference, and he'd been given a name tag with what he thought the ridiculous title of Special Demonstrator, which was a fairly accurate summary of his role, though he had been contemplating changing it to Magician.

"Here on business?" he heard someone say.

For a moment, he didn't reply, just decided that the speaker had been addressing someone else. But there was no one else, a fact which he quickly realised when there was no reply. He glanced at the speaker.

She was a woman, about forty, dressed in a light green pastel coloured suit and heels, with blonde hair, a round face, and big brown eyes. Were it not for the heels, she would have been quite short. She had a womanly figure, though she seemed somewhat petite. When she spoke, she sounded as though she was taken with a cold, though Abe was quite sure that she wasn't. "Are you here on business?" the woman repeated.

"I'm a magician," Abe told her.

The woman smiled.

Abe stared at her, which, he considered, wasn't like him, except that he couldn't make himself stop.

The woman watched him pleasantly, perhaps thinking he would speak.

"What about you?" Abe shot quickly.

"Business," the woman replied.

Abe went back to staring at her. She had a pleasant face.

Abruptly, a chime sounded. They had arrived at the woman's floor. She would leave now.

"I-I'd really like to buy you a drink," Abe heard himself stammer.

The woman frowned politely, perhaps considering what he'd said.

But Abe didn't wait for her to answer. "What I mean to say is," he continued hurriedly, "I'm getting a drink myself and I wondered if you'd accompany me?" He blushed. "I-I suppose I'd feel rather daft sitting all on my own," he admitted.

Behind the woman, the elevator doors slid smoothly open and several more people joined them in the carriage.

"Just… just a coffee," Abe said. His heart was beating far too fast, and even if she replied he didn't think he would hear her.

The woman smiled. "A coffee," she agreed in a soft voice. "I'd like that."

* * *

Abe liked hearing her speak. The woman ordered a black coffee, then turned to him to ask what he would have, and he said that he would have the same.

They took a seat to wait for their coffees and Abe found himself staring again.

The woman smiled at him for a moment before she was overtaken by, or perhaps retreated back into, her own thoughts.

When the coffees arrived, they didn't talk much, and instead waited for their hot drinks to cool sufficiently to drink.

Abe knew that she would leave when they'd finished their drinks, and for a moment, he thought about what he might say to start up some conversation to prolong her stay with him, but then he realised that he didn't know what he would say to her.

Beside, why should she want to stay any longer? She wasn't interested in him like that, he decided, and he was silly for thinking otherwise. The whole thing was just stupid, and he was stupid. He didn't know what was wrong with him.

He finished his coffee and waited for her to do the same.

When she had finished her own drink, she thanked him for the coffee and the company and told him she would have to leave.

He nodded and wished her good luck on her business, he'd say a magical incantation for her, he was a magician and he could do magic.

She laughed and walked away.

When she'd gone, he thought about smacking his head on the table, but then he'd just get a headache, and to make things worse, he'd look like a basket case.

* * *

Fulton sighed. She was tired and uncomfortable, and Reston telling her to "Call me Carter" just made her feel sick, but she was not going to get off easily. After the workshop, Reston invited her to dinner, and seeing as they were colleagues and he wasn't asking her "out on a date", she didn't see how she could say no.

When she had finished dinner, she thanked him for the company – it wasn't as though he'd paid her share of the bill – and told him that she was going to bed. She was very tired.

Returning to her room, she remembered that there was a seminar she had to attend in three hours, and if she lay down now, she wouldn't be able to get back up in three hours, so she decided to take a walk instead, and hoped that she wouldn't run into Reston.

* * *

Fulton was walking around in the gift shop when she spied the young man from earlier and decided to walk over and say hi.

He was looking at the stuffed toys when she walked over, and didn't notice her.

"Hiii," she said gently, hoping she wouldn't startle him.

He spun around and stared at her. He had very pale blue eyes.

She smiled. "They're cute," she said, glancing at the soft toys.

"I guess," he said. "They're made in China."

She smiled a bit more. They probably were. "I was wondering," she said. "I was just going to get a coffee, and- would you like to-" She shook her head, searching for the right word. "Come?"

He smiled. "Okay," he said. "I mean, that would be nice."

"Okay."

* * *

They were walking toward the elevators, when she stopped and took his arm.

Abe turned and looked at her.

"Show me something magical," she said.

Abe blinked, and then he sort of stepped closer to her, and kissed her.

He thought she might push him away from her, or slap him, or scream, but she didn't do any of those things. Instead, she kissed him back.

He didn't much take notice of what she did after that, because she was still kissing him, and he didn't want her to stop. It was kind of really nice.

But she gripped his arms and steered him away somewhere – he didn't even care where – and then they were in a bathroom, and then in an even smaller space, a cubicle, and she continued kissing him for a while, and then she pulled away from him.

There wasn't much room in the cubicle, so they were both backed up against different walls, and he just stared at her, his breathing heavy, scared she was going to hit him and say it had been all his fault. But she was smiling at him with her mouth and her eyes, and her hands were pulling at her clothes, so he grinned and did the same.

* * *

Without her heels, she was the smallest bit shorter than him, and underneath her clothes, her skin was soft and warm. When he ran his hand over her stomach, she giggled. She had a belly button stud.

He smiled and kissed her.

She giggled again, and pushed away from the door, pulling him around and backing him against the door with a thud so that their positions were reversed. She grinned back at him.

He took her bottom lip between his own lips and gripped her upper arms, pushing her back against the wall beside them, whilst he unlocked the latch and pulled the door open, pulling her out of the cubicle after him and spinning her around and hoisting her up onto the bench top where the basins were.

She giggled breathlessly, and wrapped her legs around him, drawing him up against her.

* * *

She couldn't catch her breath, and she was tingling all over. She felt warm and soft, but not a bit sleepy. She laughed. "That was completely naughty, and a little bit magical too."

The young man smiled, the glow in his cheeks reddening.

Fulton smiled back at him.

He paused for a moment, watching her, and she stopped what she was doing and stepped up to him and kissed him.

He smiled when she pulled apart from him, and she went back to getting dressed.

* * *

_The tree was full of foxes. Dead tree full of dead foxes. Dead, dead, dead. And the blue sky. So much blue._

_She was smiling, and the tree was gone. They were somewhere else. A party, Abe decided. Everyone was wearing old-fashioned clothes, the kind people used to wear in the 1940s, or maybe it was the 40s. Her name was Sarah._

_But Sarah left too. And there was that tree again, and those foxes, and Sarah's mother, she'd worn a fox. Killed it and pulled its skin and its fur off and worn it. Except she hadn't killed it herself. She hadn't even made the fox jacket herself._

_Sarah wanted a jacket just like her mother's when she grew up, but maybe not made out of fox, maybe something else, something exotic, a tiger or something. Could you make a jacket out of a tiger? Sarah wondered, and she imagined a desert plain in Africa where a tiger lived. The man who caught the tiger would have to be very brave. Yes, she was sure of it. If he was not brave, then… what would he be doing chasing a tiger?_

_Abe could hear sounds from upstairs. A different party, not the same as last time._

_Then the scene changed again. It couldn't stay the same. A party, again. But this one was different from the last two. There was a big dead tree sitting in the middle of the room. Well, not the middle exactly, but it was so big, it didn't really matter where it sat, people would stare at it anyway. And there were things hanging in the tree – not dead foxes thankfully – but shiny sparkly things. Decorations. And there was an angel on top of the tree._

_Under the tree, there was a box for him. A gift. It was Christmas._

_There was paper wrapping on the box, and his name – Abel – and inside the box there was a wooden train, painted smartly in green. He looked at the wrapping paper with the exotic animals. It even had a tiger. Sarah had told him all about tigers, and he was sure that one was a tiger, except someone had given it a bath because its stripes had come off._

To Abel, from Daddy_, a little card with a picture of a bell on the front of it read._

_He left the smart wooden train and the card with the bell. He wanted to show Sarah the tiger, but she got angry. It wasn't even a tiger, she scolded. It was a lion. They were different. He was stupid._

_Then he was back on the staircase, and he could hear the sounds of a party._

_Back at the Christmas party. Sarah was upset. Then Sarah was gone. It was darker. There was the big tree, only it was scary now. It was so big, and just sitting there. Was it waiting for something? he wondered. Perhaps it wanted to gobble him up? Because it was hungry. The people had come and cut it down and now it couldn't eat the things it ate in the ground, so it was going to eat him._

_But the angel was still there, making sure the big tree behaved itself and didn't eat any children, so he knew he didn't have to be scared. The angel was good. She wouldn't let the tree eat him up._

_Except he didn't have an angel of his own, and he was scared. He couldn't sleep because he was scared. He wished big brother would cuddle him, or maybe he could sleep with big brother in his bed? He wasn't very big at all. But big brother had been sleeping, and he hadn't wanted to wake him because he would get angry and scold him. So he'd come downstairs to see the angel._

_He didn't think anyone would still be awake, until he heard someone say something to him, and looked around to see one of the maids._

_Abe liked this maid. She was one of the younger ones, and she sounded funny when she talked, but she was nice._

_Of course, she asked him what he was doing out of bed, so he told her that he was frightened, and the maid told him that there was nothing to be afraid of, and he was just being silly, big bad shadows couldn't hurt anyone._

_Abe made a face, but she tickled him, and he smiled._

_He was on the staircase again. He was going downstairs. He wanted to see the party._

_Outside the door, Sarah was sitting on the step, boots planted firmly on the landing, utterly morose. It was a party for adults, and she wasn't allowed inside because she wasn't an adult._

_Turning her head at the small sound the step had made, she lifted her face and saw him standing on the staircase. "You're not allowed!" she told him in a low voice, annoyed._

"_I want to see the party," Abe told her quietly._

_Sarah shot to her feet. "If I'm not allowed," she hissed, "you're not allowed!"_

_Abe made a face, but decided that it was only fair that if Sarah wasn't allowed in, then he shouldn't be either. She was six years older than him, after all. Still, he could sit with her on the step and listen to all the other people at the party._

"_Go away!" Sarah hissed up the staircase._

_Abe shook his head. He wanted to sit with her._

_Then Sarah started to stomp up the staircase toward him with her angry face on. She always said how much she hated the way he followed her around and would not leave her alone._

_He was back in the room with the big tree with the angel on top, but he wasn't smiling anymore. The maid was lying on the floor. She wasn't even moving a bit, and something dark was coming out of her head, spreading menacingly across the floor like a slowly growing shadow._

_He was giggling because he was ticklish, and the maid was giggling too because she was making him giggle._

_And there was Sarah's mother – she was James's mother too, and his – and there was the maid, and there went the blood, and for a moment, the quiet was deafening, and then he was on the staircase, with all of that noise from the party in the room with the closed door, and Sarah charging angrily up the stairs toward him._

"_Why won't you listen to me?" Sarah scowled, raising her voice, and grabbed him by the arms and started to shake him back and forth. "You're not old enough!" she hollered, really screaming now. "And I'm older!"_

_He was back in the room with the big tree and Sarah's mother was screaming, but Abe was only four, and he didn't understand what she meant. That whore had had no right to comfort her child! That was what they'd agreed! She was his mother now, and that whore wasn't!_

_And then he was on the staircase with Sarah, who was dragging him up the stairs after her, but he didn't want to go back to bed. He wanted to stay with her, so he pulled on her arm to make her stop._

_She turned swiftly because she was so sick of him. Angrily, she pushed him away from her._

_And he fell down the stairs._

_And there was daddy, and daddy was staring at mother, staring at what she had done, and there was daddy, and there was Abe, and then daddy was gone. Sarah and James and mother, gone._

_And there was the tree with the foxes._

_And there was the young woman with the yellow dress with the hair like Sarah's, except it was lighter, and it was curly. She was smiling. He smiled too. They were getting married._

_And there was the young woman, except she was older, and she wasn't moving a bit._

* * *

Abe climbed off the bed and sat down in the corner, drawing his knees up to his chest and hugging them tightly. He didn't want the dream to come back. He just wanted to go to sleep.

* * *

Abe spent the morning running over diagnoses and Healing little things. During a half hour break, his group went for drinks. He had a bottle of mineral water, whilst most of the others had coffee or Coke, but he didn't want to risk feeling sick by having anything with too much sugar or too much caffeine or additives such as colourings, flavourings, or preservatives in it. At 11 o'clock, he returned with his group as Special Demonstrator for Blue Cove.

He sensed the other Healers the moment they were on the same floor. When he entered the room, everything went black for a long moment, and then Mark was staring at him, because he'd stopped walking, and he wondered if he was going to be sick.

The other Healers seemed fine though.

Wanting to be sick, Abe took a seat with the others in his group, and forced himself to listen to whoever was speaking, but the voice kept dipping and rising in volume, or disappearing altogether, and the harder he listened, the worse he felt, and then the colour started to leach away, and everything went black again.

Mark glanced at him briefly, but he did not say anything over the speaker.

His vision returned, and he started to feel hot and cold, and the sick feeling went away for a while, but it didn't stay away.

He tried to go through the feelings, but they were too strong, and he only ended up feeling worse.

Then it seemed, the person who had been speaking, stopped, and the patient who would be the last test was brought in, and Abe realised that the patient wasn't a patient at all.

He was a Reaper, captured from a rival corporation. He hadn't been given any special poisons to kill Reapers, just various drugs, chemicals, and diseases that could not be transmitted from human to human. He was dying just for them.

A strange hissing had started in Abe's head when he had first come into the room, but it had not been apparent, even when it had disappeared and returned at odd intervals, but it changed and became a voice, or something like a voice, repeating itself over and over inside his head. _Find them._

The speaker from before was speaking again, reading out a list of the groups with Healers and in what order they would take their final test. One of the groups that were not Abe's group was first, with the instruction to do as much or as little as they pleased.

Abe's eyes rolled in his head. _Find them. Find them. Find…_ Abe laughed.

A few people stared at him.

The first Healer was trying to do too much, and he had already amassed a massive amount of damage that would later develop into negative feedback, though he didn't seem to notice.

None of the other Healers said anything.

For a moment, Abe wondered if they had sensed the same thing he had, and if they had, if they were not saying anything on purpose, but the moment passed quickly, and his thoughts became unclear again.

He swayed and pushed himself to his feet unsteadily. He heard someone speaking, or what he thought was someone speaking, but he didn't really take much notice.

The first Healer had returned to his group, and another Healer was approaching the Reaper.

Abe laughed. "You're going… stupid… don't you… you can't…" he told the Healer.

The Healer stared at him.

"Find… tiger… angel… not allowed…" Everything was going around and around in his head and he wasn't making any sense.

He could feel someone trying to take him away, but he pulled away from them sharply, and lurched forward, and shoved the Healer backward. "Stupid… go away…" he told him.

He put his hand on the Reaper's forehead and everything disappeared.

* * *

When Abe woke, he was lying on the floor. He blinked. He got to his feet, and collapsed again, and was sick.

"The Reaper escaped," Mark told him, standing over by the door.

Abe couldn't stop being sick. He got back up and stumbled out of the room and up the corridor.

Mark glanced at him for a moment, and strode away in the opposite direction, perhaps to join the others who were looking for the Reaper.

* * *

"I won't let you fall," a voice said. It wasn't the same voice that was in his head.

Abe didn't understand what that meant, but he was going to be sick again. "Bath… room…" he told the voice.

"I think I know where one is," the voice said again.

Then Abe was in a bathroom, and he was throwing up.

* * *

There was a sharp beeping sound. The voice was speaking again, telling him something, and then the voice was gone, and a new voice spoke.

"Gone!"

Abe stared at the man who had just come in. "I'm sorry," he said. He struggled to form the words. "I was stupid."

Mark turned around and walked out.

* * *

Abe said nothing at dinner, and nobody said anything to him. The only conversation was between Mark and the two nurses, who were discussing gambling.

Then Abe left to go to bed.

* * *

He met the woman in a corridor. She stared at him, and then she said, "How are you?" and Abe knew it had been her in the bathroom.

He put his head on her shoulder.

For a moment, she just stood there.

"I want to kiss you," Abe said.

* * *

They didn't speak as they walked to his room, and then they were kissing. They kissed for a long time. Abe began to feel warm and sleepy, so he put his head on her shoulder, then he lay down on the bed, his head in her lap, and went to sleep.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	52. Chapter 52

As she was standing there, and the cold night air raced around her and wrapped arms around her, she realised how high up she was, and that if she took another step, she would fall, all the way down, to her death. She stood there, and willed herself to take just one more step. That was all it would be, and it would be over. Everything would be over.

She was so cold, and she was crying, but she'd forgotten that. What did any of it matter anyway, when she would be dead? All she had to do was take one step.

"Emily."

At first, Emily didn't hear the voice. _One step._

"Emily."

_One lousy step!_ She felt like screaming. Why couldn't she just take the step?

She didn't hear the footsteps, and then someone was standing beside her – she couldn't see who, her hair was in the way – but she could tell they were looking at her.

She wanted to tell them that it was not safe to stand so close to the edge, and to look away, because she was going to kill herself, but then she noticed how they were looking at her, just her.

For a moment, she thought that they wanted to watch her kill herself, but still they hadn't looked away, and still she hadn't stepped.

And then they put their arms around her, and she forgot everything, forgot how close she had come to stepping, or how high up she was, or how cold she was, because even though he wasn't real, in that moment, she couldn't care, because he was holding her that close.

As they walked back from the edge, it struck her that she'd scared him, but then she was alone, and she was standing on the staircase. She started to cry.

Somewhere down there – she didn't want to remember the table number – her date was waiting for her to arrive so that they could order dinner, and all she could do was cry. Her colleagues at the supermarket had set the date up, she had never even seen the man, and she wondered if she ever would.

* * *

At work, her colleagues asked her how her date had been. "It was nice," Emily said. She didn't tell them that she had wanted to kill herself.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	53. Chapter 53

Fulton walked to a vending machine. It would be a waste of time panicking, she supposed, because in ten minutes she would be presenting a seminar to one third of the Med Space staff, which she would have to repeat twice to cover all the people working under Med Space.

At the vending machine, she got herself a bottle of water and walked back to the conference room where she would be holding the seminar.

By the second scheduled break marking the halfway point in the seminar, everything seemed to have gone okay, and all of her questions to the audience had been answered, however hesitantly. All in all, she was pleased to have gotten through the first half of the first seminar to lunch.

On Monday, the dining hall served fish. There was fried fish, battered fish and crumbed fish. Fulton decided on the fried fish, a piece of lemon, and a garden salad, which she had with a coffee, and chose a seat at a table by a wall. Usually, she ate lunch in her office. It was nice not to be for once.

* * *

Jarod was going through DSAs, looking for anything relating to NuGenesis or Kyle. He ejected a DSA of a group of Sweepers discussing statistics about Blue Cove Sweeper Space compared to other branches.

The DSA he next inserted showed Catherine Parker lying in a sterile white bed, wearing a standard issue Center hospital gown. She was probably in a room in Med Space on SL-8, Jarod thought, and not Isolation or Intensive Care, which was on SL-9. The room certainly reminded him of those on SL-8.

On a bed beside her own, Raines sat watching her. And if this wasn't disturbing enough, he was eating chocolate ice-cream out of a small tub.

In the other bed, Catherine stirred and sat slowly. She stared at Raines strangely.

Raines grinned. "Welcome back to the Land of the Living, Mrs. Parker," he announced with a British accent.

Taken off guard, Jarod frowned, before remembering that Raines had had a British accent, at least up until 1975 when his daughter, Annie, had disappeared, and his wife died, though Jarod knew that she had not died but had been murdered by Raines.

"I'll be your host for the day," Raines continued. "You can call me William." He dropped his eyes to his ice-cream, and then offered the tub to Catherine.

She made a face. Then she grabbed the spoon out of his hand and scooped out a bit of the ice-cream to taste it. "Yuck!" she said, and took the tub, allowing herself a big scoop and popping it into her mouth. After a moment, mouth full of ice-cream, she said: "I'm not supposed to have ice-cream."

Raines leant forward suddenly as though to take the tub of ice-cream back off her, but she held it out of his reach and grinned. He wasn't having it back.

"Chart says there's a good chance you'll live," Raines said to change the topic, nodding to the chart at the end of her bed.

Catherine watched him without comment.

"At least I'm fairly certain that's what the chart would say," Raines admitted. "Supposing I could read it."

Catherine laughed.

Raines smiled.

"Excuse me!" a voice interrupted.

Raines slipped off the bed and turned to face the doctor swiftly. "No excuse me, doctor!" he said firmly. "I couldn't quite make out the handwriting, but I'm fairly certain this patient is _not_ supposed to be having ice cream!"

The doctor's eyes moved past Raines to land on Catherine for several moments, then his eyes came to rest on the Director of Med Space pin Raines wore.

Raines folded his arms. "Frankly, I find this behaviour unacceptable and reprehensible, doctor," he told the glaring doctor. "Of course, you understand that I want to know who is responsible."

The glaring doctor barely grimaced in response, then he turned on his heel and walked to the door.

"Doctor!" Raines called him back.

The doctor turned but did not approach any further.

"I assume it is your handwriting on the chart?"

"Yes, it is," the doctor ground.

"If you cannot make your writing legible," Raines told him, "you will be fired."

The doctor flushed angrily.

"See to it."

The doctor turned and stormed out.

Raines turned back to see Catherine crawl to the end of the bed and detach the chart, turning it around to read it. "Will you really fire him?" she asked, settling back on the mattress, her eyes moving down the chart.

"If he doesn't improve his handwriting so that it is at least readable," Raines replied seriously, "yes!"

Catherine glanced at him a moment before she unclipped the form and turned it over, passing both the chart and the pen to Raines. "Write something," she told him.

With an annoyed sigh, Raines scrawled something on the back of the chart and handed it back to Catherine, folding his arms.

Catherine looked at the chart. "What is your favourite brand of ice-cream?" she read the words aloud. "Happy now?" She looked at Raines. "Happy," she said.

Raines unfolded his arms and held out a hand for the chart, which she passed back to him. He unclipped the form, turning it back to the front, and returned the chart to the end of the bed.

"I thought doctors were supposed to not be able to write," Catherine said absently.

Raines looked up from the chart, secured to the end of the bed once more, and crossed his arms.

"You know, like it was a special class in doctor's school?" Catherine went on. She grinned. "Unreadbackable Writing 101."

Raines picked up the discarded tub of ice-cream and sat down on Catherine's bed, allowing himself a spoon of ice-cream.

Catherine sat down beside him.

He handed her the spoon.

"My favourite ice-cream is Ben and Jerry's Belgian dark chocolate," Catherine said, resting her head on his shoulder.

Raines laughed.

Catherine straightened in affront, and pushed him in the arm. "It's not funny!" she told him.

Raines shook his head and stood up. "How do you feel?" he asked her.

Catherine smiled. "Better," she said.

"Maybe I won't fire him," Raines commented vaguely, before turning and walking away.

Catherine served herself another spoonful of chocolate ice cream. "I don't think you're a real doctor!" she called after him.

At the door, Raines paused and turned around. He shrugged.

Catherine shook her head.

"Where's your proof?" Raines called back to her.

Catherine smiled. "My husband's the Chairman!" she told him loudly.

Raines smiled too. "This is me," he said. He rolled his eyes. "Rolling my eyes."

"My psychiatrist doesn't like you!" Catherine came back.

Raines laughed.

Catherine narrowed her eyes at him.

Raines walked off.

Catherine went back to the tub of ice cream.

Jarod frowned, confused. He wasn't sure what to make of the DSA, so he decided that he would make a copy and send it to Parker. Maybe he could even ask her to show it to Sydney.

* * *

The seminar over, Fulton dumped the forms she had collected into a box on a table that had been placed at the front of the room beside the computer terminal that also served as a lectern, and switched the computer and projector off, then she started looking around for the various things she had brought with her for the seminar and packing them away.

Right before the end of the seminar, she had instructed everyone to take a survey to evaluate the seminar, which could be found on the desk by the door as they were leaving, though most people, she noted, hadn't bothered.

In future, she supposed it would be a good idea to hand them out after the seminar and ask everyone to fill them in before they left. She sighed. Perhaps it would be a good idea to ask at the dining hall if they could arrange for coffee and tea and biscuits for the two ten minute breaks also, rather than just water in disposable plastic cups. Some sort of fruit or muesli bars would be nice also, but she supposed she would have to talk to the Chairman and Med Space Director before asking the dining hall anyway, though she was fairly certain of the Chairman's response. They're staff, not visitors, they're nobody to impress, if they want coffee and tea and biscuits they can bring it themselves, they already get coffee and tea in the dining hall from 9 o'clock to 4 o'clock for free, as well as lunch. What more do they want? This is a business, not a charity.

Then she supposed the Chairman would start on the annual fees, how they were too low for the free coffee and tea and lunch and parking and toilets, and how they should be increased.

Fulton walked down the corridor to the elevators with the two copy paper boxes and her handbag. All she would end up with for her efforts would be a headache, she thought, and the answer would be the same as if she hadn't tried at all. No.

She supposed they were lucky they didn't have to pay for lunch. She had even heard that in some of the other branches you did have to, though she wasn't sure if that included the parking as well. And she didn't know what their fees were like. But maybe it was just because of their location, or maybe everything cost more in those other states?

Inside the elevator, she hit the button for Autopsy and waited for the doors to open again.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	54. Chapter 54

Parker put one of Lyle's CDs on, The Platters, and sat down to look through Lyle's things. Just as Emily had said, she found several biomech cards, and then a whole lot of biomech cards with their own serial numbers which included series and volume. She had recently acquired a biomech player, so she slotted one of the biomechs into the portable drive which was connected to her laptop, and sat back to wait for the biomech to play. But instead of going straight to the footage from Autoplay, where she had chosen Play, a menu came up asking which lesson she wanted to play.

Parker frowned. She supposed she would just have to choose one of the lessons to find out what they were. She chose the first lesson listed on the biomech and pressed play. After a few minutes, she realised that what she was looking at was an EP. Cute little cartoons with an equally cute, kind of creepy, soundtrack. All of the biomechs with serial numbers were Educational Programming. Lyle had made EPs, Parker realised. When he had been working in Canada as a tech.

She ejected the EP and chose another EP. The lesson she chose featured vocals in its soundtrack. Parker closed her eyes and listened to the woman singing. She did not need to be told or to read it anywhere – she knew that it was Emily.

"Cute cartoon," a voice spoke abruptly.

Parker opened her eyes.

Paulie glanced at the things spread out on the mattress. "Are those Lyle's things?"

Parker nodded.

Paulie took a seat at the end of the bed. She glanced at the things on the bed. After a moment, she leant forward and she picked up one of the stone snails Parker had put with the rest of Lyle's things.

* * *

Peel was pleased with Cadman's progress. He'd had First accelerate his growth, so that in the addition to the name change, it would be very unlikely that anyone would recognise four-year-old Cadman Peel as having once been one-year-old Mungo Connor.

The little boy had a little of his mother's tan, though his hair was a lighter shade of brown matching Peel's hair colour, and he had big green eyes, the colour of which could be attributed to neither of his parents, though the shape of which recalled that of Cadman's mother's own eyes.

Still, Peel was confident that no one would recognise Cadman for who he had once been. Meanwhile, he would say that he had recently gained custody of the boy after his mother's death.

Except for his tendency for bruising easily, Cadman was a healthy four-year-old who liked listening to Jaime Ray Newman and playing with his pet turtle, Tortoise.

He had left Cadman temporarily in the care of the Center's crèche.

* * *

"It was a mistake to send Abe to the conference accompanied by another doctor," Peel told the Chairman, his voice light. Of course, he'd heard about the incident with the Reaper, and he was confident it would not have happened had he been there to supervise Abe. He was his doctor. He knew his reactions. He would have known when something was wrong and he would have been able to step in before things had gotten out of hand. But instead, another Tower doctor had been sent in his place. A doctor who knew nothing about Abe! To his mind, Denis was culpable for whatever happened next.

Denis fixed him with a hostile glare, casting aside all pretence at friendliness. "Do you think anybody actually cares what you think?" she growled. She shot to her feet behind her desk. "I am in charge here, imbecile! You do the job, you get paid, you get to live another day! Get the fuck out of my office!"

Peel stood stiffly and strode out of her office. _Stupid bitch!_

* * *

Denis retook her chair.

Who did Peel think he was, telling her she was the one who had made a mistake?

He'd already fucked up on the drug they had been developing, which was why she'd given it to another Tower doctor, and why she had also assigned another Tower doctor to accompany Abe to the conference. She was beginning to doubt whether he was the best person to be in charge of Reagan.

She was in a hell of a lot of shit over that Reaper that had gotten away at the conference, the Tower already suggesting Blue Cove organise a Retrieval team to track down and neutralise the Reaper, and it was only a matter of time before suggestion became direct instruction. Aside from the casualties the Reaper could cause, the information the thing was carrying on their corporation was far too damaging for them to let the thing live.

For now, the Reaper was being handled by the Center's New York branch, though it had not yet been recaptured as far as Denis was aware, and it had been some time. For all they knew it had already contacted its home corporation and told them everything it knew. Including about Abe, Denis thought.

They were so fucked!

They'd gotten the funding, but now that the Tower knew how good Abe was – fuck even the opposition knew how good he was! – then it was only a matter of time before he was taken off their hands and transferred to Alaska. And that would be Blue Cove – fucking worthless all over again.

Fuck those fucking T-Corps who had taken Blue away from them! Fuck T-Corp, fuck the Tower, fuck the High Chairman, fuck Alaska! Abe wasn't going anywhere!

* * *

At home, Cadman was playing with his Leap Frog interactive book and Tag reader. Peel ordered pizza from Dominos and sat down to look through some files from work.

After a while he got sick of hearing the sound of random intermittent words and jingles and put the interactive book away, telling Cadman to play with Tortoise instead.

Cadman wasn't old enough or tall enough to reach up and take Tortoise out of his aquarium, so Peel did that for him, and handed the animal to the little boy. He hated touching the thing, but at least it didn't bark or scratch up the furniture, and it couldn't do much harm to Cadman either.

Cadman lay on the floor, watching Tortoise watching him, not making a sound.

Peel returned to his files.

Five minutes later, Cadman started singing his favourite Jaime Ray Newman song, _Chain of Fools_.

"Cadman, no!" Peel shot sharply. Cadman stopped singing. "If you keep singing that song, Tortoise's head will explode."

Cadman said nothing.

_He doesn't understand,_ Peel thought. "Tortoise will be dead," he told Cadman. But Cadman probably wouldn't understand that either, he supposed.

Cadman watched Tortoise for a long while, until the pizza arrived, and he ran to the door, excited about dinner.

* * *

Emily lifted her feet up off the carpet and sat back in the armchair, opening her Marjorie M. Liu romance novel to the earmarked page so that she and Gerald the Giraffe – the character printed in acrylic onto the front of her pyjama top – could finish the chapter and start on the next.

Paranormal romance was her favourite type of romance, though Ethan was convinced she secretly had a thing for cowboys, and Emily always replied, Superman, maybe, but a boring old cowboy, not on her life, unless he was extraterrestrial, from another dimension, had superpowers, or had a time machine. She wasn't interested.

* * *

Parker frowned at the screen. For once, she was as confused as Jarod. She didn't know what the DSA meant. She glanced at Paulie, who was still watching the screen, though it had been paused.

"I'm not sure I understand," Sydney was the first to speak.

"How was he?" Paulie asked. "Raines. As a doctor?"

Sydney frowned at her. After a moment, he said: "He was reasonable."

Paulie frowned now too. "Reasonable. He was made Director of Med Space because he was reasonable?"

Sydney glanced at her properly now, annoyed.

"Was he believable?" Paulie pressed.

"He was believable," Sydney responded, trying to keep his mounting annoyance from his voice.

"There was no question as to his accreditation?"

Sydney stared at her.

Paulie did not back down. She was used to asking stupid, awkward, and hard questions.

"Jacob did not believe that he was a doctor," Sydney replied stiffly.

"Your brother?" Paulie questioned.

"Former Med Space Director," Sydney bristled.

"Jacob was Director before Raines?"

"That is correct."

Paulie frowned heavily. "Why, then, did he, believing him to be false, appoint him his successor?"

Sydney looked away from her. "I do not know. Perhaps Raines was blackmailing Jacob."

"How was Raines involved in Catherine Parker's plan to rescue the children?" Paulie asked, changing topic.

"He assisted her to stage her death so that she was able to give birth to yours and Miss Parker's half brother, Ethan, in secret, before he shot her."

"She was planning to rescue the children following Ethan's birth?" Paulie questioned.

Sydney sighed. "I do not know."

"Perhaps Raines was blackmailing her?"

"Perhaps."

Paulie crossed her arms. "I think mom had a crush on Raines. That's what I think this suggests."

Parker blinked.

Sydney glared at Paulie, appalled.

Paulie shrugged. "Then again, I could be wrong." She laughed shortly, the sound caught between an odd mixture of haughty amusement, triviality, and self-depreciation.

Sydney frowned, not following her at all.

Paulie turned and walked out.

* * *

Abe lay awake, unable to sleep. He had woken some minutes earlier and begun thinking about the woman in the yellow dress. His wife. There was so much he did not know, he could not remember. What was her name? When was her birthday? Where had they lived? Had they had children? What had she done? Had he loved her?

Abe closed his eyes. He missed her, the woman from the conference. And he didn't even know her name.

He finally fell asleep.

* * *

Paulie sat in her office and fingered through the file she had taken out of her filing cabinet, and old case from her time with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

She shut the file. What was the good of looking through all those old documents and photographs now? She had killed the only person who might have been able to help her put Lyle Bowman away for a very long time. She'd realised that yesterday, looking at Lyle's things.

Lyle and Bobby had been the same person. Jarod Cross had been in charge of the case. Paulie could still remember the first time she had read the files on the old case. She had laughed so much when she had read that there was a town named Misery. From the moment she had finished reading the file, she had known that she did not like Bowman in the least, and no matter what happened from then on, she would go on not liking him. She didn't care if he hadn't killed Bobby, which wasn't to say that she didn't care that Bobby had killed Jimmy, but she just didn't like Bowman.

She'd felt bad for Bobby, hearing how his father had locked him in that shed. It didn't mean she condoned what he had done, or that they would be friends. It didn't even mean that she really felt that his father's behaviour toward him was an excuse for his own behaviour. But she didn't believe that Bowman was without blame either, and she didn't believe, that when he got out, that he would be a changed man.

She'd felt very strongly that Bobby had to be found, and that justice had to be served, but she'd also felt that when they found Bobby, maybe Bobby could help them justify his father's behaviour, and that maybe Bobby could tell them something that might lead them to a better understanding of whether or not Bowman really was fit to be released into society.

That wasn't going to happen now. They would never really know why Bobby had killed Jimmy, and they would never really know if Bowman was safe.

Paulie put the file away and locked the filing cabinet.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	55. Chapter 55

Denis was careful not to show her nervousness over Project Guzman, a fresh, ambitious program that proposed a sort of body time share between a suitably attuned individual and a 'soul' of the client's choosing. The idea of the program had come from the work done with various individuals possessing the Inner Sense, and work done previously with Reagan by Persephone.

In truth, though, Denis was nervous. Today was the official unveiling of the program to the Tower and demonstration, and Reagan had been off since he had been shot.

He had progressed from L1 trainee to L2 trainee, but aside from this, his Empathic abilities had stayed the same.

Reagan waited in another room with Peel, listening to Amy Winehouse on his MP3 player instead of his usual baroque or Norah Jones.

* * *

The first task Reagan was set was to establish a connection and communication with the soul that he would be body sharing with. The Tower provided several items and sat back to watch the show. Two hours and forty-six minutes later Reagan had completed the first phase of the task. Reagan announced that he had located the soul and established a line of communication.

Saffi Mallard was a former Tower employee. She had died five years previously, her damaged body not able to be Healed.

The Tower pressed Reagan with a gamut of questions. Reagan's responses must have been satisfactory, because they proceeded to explain the program to Saffi through Reagan.

When this was done, Reagan indicated that Saffi understood and the Tower gave the go ahead for the last phase.

Reagan nodded once. For a long moment, nothing happened.

Peel shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether Reagan had chickened out.

Reagan gasped, his head shooting backward. He stumbled slightly, and then he let out a slow breath, tipping his head forward again.

Denis knew from that moment that it was not Reagan controlling that body any longer, but Saffi Mallard.

Reagan's body, now controlled by Saffi Mallard, said: "The Center will rise!"

The Tower launched into a jumble of questions, do this and do thats. They explained the program over, then they moved on to what they wanted Saffi to do.

* * *

Reagan curled up in bed and didn't move. He dreamed of a forest of impossibly tall trees under the ground, trees with feathers and scales instead of leaves, under an unseeable sky. The leaves rustled in the unmoving air as though alive. The sound of bats' wings beating and great armies of marching insects fell from the sky; raining, rolling down the trees like the shedding of skin; clicking-a-clacking, flapping-a-fluttering to the dark earth.

* * *

The black droplet broke the mirror flat surface of the water. Xaris frowned. His nose was bleeding. He felt sick.

He had stood at the edge of the swimming pool, watching the unmoving water for a long time. He wasn't sure how long exactly, except that it felt like a long time. He didn't even know why he had been watching the water, as though he had just woken and found himself here, and that great stretch of water before him. He could not remember why or when he had come here, with what purpose, or even the way he had come. Except that he was here, watching the swimming pool. Not the people in the swimming pool, not even the swimming pool really, just the water.

It was an indoor swimming pool, and there were no people to watch even if he had wanted to watch them.

A second drop joined the first. The blood was black, and then red, and finally yellow, as it dispersed in the water. He couldn't look away from the water. If he moved, he would be sick, so he went on staring at the water without knowing why.

* * *

Lucy sat in the dining hall, reading the latest edition of _The Blue Cove Bonanza_.

"Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you!"

She looked up at the sound of the loud shout, noting two Sweepers.

"Hey!"

The Sweeper who had been walking away swung around swiftly when the other Sweeper gripped his arm.

The Sweeper who had grabbed the man's arm glared at the first Sweeper's mocking face, which had quickly switched to anger.

"Hey! Do you want make look bad in flont of guest?" Lucy asked suddenly, raising her voice and prodding the GUEST pass pinned to her chest.

The glaring Sweeper glanced at her, distracted momentarily.

When he looked away from the other Sweeper, the angry man shoved him away from him and raised a fist to take a swing.

"You stop too!" Lucy told the angry Sweeper. "Look bad in flont of guest. Bad leview for Blue Cove."

The angry Sweeper stalked away.

The glaring Sweeper narrowed his eyes after the other Sweeper and turned and marched away.

Lucy got to her feet and walked off too.

* * *

"Not you again!" a voice complained loudly.

Lucy looked up to see the Sweeper from the dining hall. "What is your name?" she asked, not bothering to accentuate her accent.

The Sweeper stared at her.

Lucy sighed.

"Robenson!" the Sweeper blurted, adding a hasty, "Ma'am."

Lucy crossed her arms. "And what is your rank?" she asked, before the Sweeper could object.

"L4, ma'am," he responded, drawing himself up.

Lucy considered what he had told her. "I might be persuaded to forget your earlier conduct," she told him, "if you bought me a coffee."

The Sweeper started to open his mouth.

"You allowed yourself to be provoked, Sweeper!" Lucy barked. "And you responded by becoming the provoker!"

Robenson deflated. "A bribe, ma'am?"

Lucy narrowed her eyes.

Robenson frowned. "I hear the cafeteria does a decent coffee, ma'am."

"That will be fine," Lucy responded disinterestedly.

* * *

Of course, Lucy was not a Tower reviewer as the Sweeper thought she was, nor had she sat in the cafeteria before, let alone drank a coffee there. She thought about telling the man that it had been a joke, but then she wouldn't get a coffee.

_No one will know,_ she told herself as she strode after the Sweeper and stepped into the elevator, hoping that she would not run into anyone who would recognise her.

Soon, the elevator reached Ground Floor and the doors opened. Lucy and the Sweeper stepped out and the Sweeper paused for a moment, trying to remember which way to go.

When they came to the cafeteria, Lucy took a seat at a table and Robenson walked to the counter to ask about their range of coffees. He returned with a laminated menu card, which he handed to Lucy, explaining that those were all the types of coffee they had.

Lucy glanced at the menu card and chose a coffee flavoured with Irish crème. She handed the card back to the Sweeper.

Robenson walked back to the counter and ordered two Irish crème coffees, and then returned and took a seat awkwardly opposite her.

Lucy did not speak. A Tower reviewer, she thought, especially one who was taking bribes, would not be overly conversant. Lucy herself, though she was yet to meet one, held no special liking for Tower reviewers.

When the coffees were ready, they were brought out by a waitress, who Lucy noticed gave the Sweeper a distasteful look.

Lucy sipped her coffee and said nothing. The coffee was nice.

* * *

Lucy stood in the elevator and listened to the muzak. She had not come back to Blue Cove as a Tower reviewer, nor had she come back to work. She had come back to see her cousin, Midori, and have a look around, maybe see how much things had changed since she had been away.

* * *

Lucy and Midori laughed about how the Sweeper had bought Lucy that coffee, scared that she would say something to the Chairman about him, or something to the Tower about the Blue Cove Branch.

"He's cute," Lucy said. Then she told Midori about Bobbi, her daughter, and about how she illustrated children's stories, and about the story she had drawn pictures for with the robot ants and the robot caterpillars who worked in a circus, and she told Midori about the pet turtle Bobbi had bought and named Ninja, Nin for short.

Midori smiled.

Lucy stopped smiling. She looked at Midori. She lowered her voice and asked her if she could find out the Sweeper's cell number or home phone number. Could she please? She wouldn't tell anyone, she promised. His name was Robenson and he was an L4.

Midori looked back at her. She could, she said slowly. She went to her computer. She read a cell phone number out in a quiet voice.

Lucy programmed the number into her cell phone address book.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	56. Chapter 56

Corinne Bailey Rae's _Trouble Sleeping_ was playing over the sound system when Collier walked into Commons. Collier, a Pretender, was among a group of 'positives' newly assigned to Blue Cove by the Tower.

Sydney had been taken off Field to train Collier.

Among the other newly assigned 'positives' was Kenna, an 18-year old who possessed the Inner Sense, who Sydney would also be working with, and a 15-year old Empath named Sheena, both of whom, Sydney had been told, would potentially be working with Collier in the future.

Mark, a Tower official assigned to Blue Cove, accompanied Collier, as well as several Sweepers.

When Sydney saw that his new Pretender had arrived, he stood.

Collier was 23, with black hair and blue eyes. Sydney had read all that in the briefing file.

Since having entered the room, Collier had not seemed to react to his surroundings at all other than to observe.

Sydney absently listened to the music that was playing.

_Some kind of therapy is all I need, please believe me. Some instant remedy that can cure me completely._

Sydney was introduced to Collier, who remained as composed as ever. Collier's blandness indicated to Sydney that he had spent the most part of his life with the Center Corporation, though the briefing file had not included mention of a prior history between the corporation and the subject.

Mark stayed back as the Sweepers escorted Collier out of the room. Persephone, he informed Sydney, was assigned as Sheena's trainer.

Sydney nodded.

Then Mark left too.

* * *

As far as Blue Cove was concerned, the cost of retrieving Jarod, Mirage and Gemini had become a burden they could no longer sustain. Jarod's Retrieval team had been reassigned. Sydney was working on the Pretender Project once more. Broots and Sam were back to working full time in Tech Space and Sweeper Space respectively, though he was still unsure about Parker and Paulie.

* * *

Jarod and Nia wanted to have a baby. Ethan had found out from Nia and had told Mo, Emily, and Zoe. But Nia couldn't have a baby, as they found out later. Then Emily came back from work one day, still dressed in her supermarket uniform, and told them that she was going to have a baby. Nia's baby.

Zoe tried to say something, but Emily cut her off.

"It's done," she told them calmly.

"Why?" Ethan asked. Jarod had not spoken to Emily since he had shouted at her that day and accused her of planning the demise of their parents' relationship.

"If there was a choice, I just didn't want it to be a stranger," Emily said.

_Jarod must have agreed,_ Ethan thought. He thought about asking Emily if Jarod had offered any apology for his behaviour, but he did not think now was the right time.

"Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" Mo asked.

"A girl," Emily answered.

"Have they picked out a name yet?"

Emily smiled. "Jay." She turned and glanced at Ethan.

Ethan did not smile.

Emily walked over to him and hugged him.

Ethan hugged her back.

* * *

He was going to save her, Alex decided. Alex would save Laura. He had decided to call her that. He didn't know her real name, but he liked the name Laura, though he wasn't sure why.

He may have changed, he thought, but his DNA hadn't. He was still a Pretender. And Alex would save Laura if it killed him, because Laura was worth that, because Laura had made him feel something.

* * *

Emily sat with Harmony, reading to her from a travel book she had recently bought.

Harmony was in a coma. She had been in a coma for the last ten years.

Ethan sat away from the bed, behind Emily, and listened to her reading to Harmony.

When Jarod had finally found all of his family, Harmony had been living with Margaret and Emily. Emily had said that Margaret and Harmony had been friends, but that Harmony had amnesia. Harmony had always lived with them, Emily had said, and just by her voice Ethan could tell that Emily cared about Harmony very much.

In a way, Emily cared about them all. When Emily loved someone, she loved them unconditionally. But whenever Emily spoke of Margaret, or thought of her, Ethan could tell how much it hurt her. She loved Margaret so much, but they just never got along. Though Emily loved her mother, Ethan suspected that Margaret had done something for which Emily could not forgive her.

He glanced at Emily again and wondered if she ever wanted children of her own.

* * *

Parker almost didn't catch herself in time to mask her shock. Denis had assigned her to Reagan – as his trainer!

Denis handed her a file.

Parker scanned the front of the folder. _Project Guzman,_ she read.

"Acquaint yourself with the contents," Denis told her. "The rest of Reagan's file will be with you within the next half hour."

* * *

Parker read the file twice. It was like reading a manuscript for a science fiction novel. She had the impulse to laugh out loud and promptly throw the file away. She read it over one more time.

Reagan's file arrived two minutes past half an hour. Parker spent most of the rest of the day getting through it. By the time she had finished, it was midafternoon.

She stood up and walked to her filing cabinet, where she put the files away.

* * *

Parker felt sick. In a few minutes she would be meeting Reagan. After what he had done to Indiana, she had never wanted to think about him again. And then last year, the police had come to her house to tell her that Reagan was in hospital after being shot. But she hadn't visited him. She had wanted nothing to do with him. She had stopped thinking about him again.

When Parker entered the Sim lab, Reagan was waiting with a Tower Sweeper. The Tower Sweeper walked to the door as she walked inside. He gave her all of the relevant numbers to contact him if she needed, and walked out, leaving her alone with Reagan.

Reagan glanced at her.

Parker swallowed her shock at the rash covering part of his face. The last time she had seen him, he had looked perfectly healthy. She felt no pity for him. Even when she realised that the noise that had been nagging her since she had stepped into the Sim lab was the sound of his laboured breathing.

Parker informed Reagan that the project had just received a new client. She began laying out papers and items.

The whole time she was doing this, Reagan did not speak.

Parker wondered if it was because he was scared of her, or if it was because it was sick. She hoped it was both.

She had been there when Reagan had been born and when Brigitte had died. She had prayed for him that he not grow up to be like his father, Lyle. And then he had hurt Indiana.

She was still placing items out when she saw Reagan move forward and take a cameo brooch from the table. She stopped what she was doing, unsure of his intention, and watched him.

He did not look at her.

* * *

Three hours later, Reagan finally spoke, telling her that he had established communication with the soul – Tia – and that it would take some time to explain the program to her.

Parker, who had read and reread Tia's file by this time, and had been staring at the photograph of the twenty-something Asian woman, looked up from the file now.

Reagan was still for a long time after this, and then he did something strange, he stood up and began to walk toward her, stopping short halfway to the table where she sat. Then he said: "I'm ready."

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	57. Chapter 57

Sydney spent the morning meeting Kenna, and then Sheena. After that, he spent the rest of the day running a Simulation with Collier.

After work, he decided that he would have dinner out. He chose a little diner he had been to before, one he knew Raines had come to often. He was amazed that it was still around after so many years, though these days it seemed to have developed into a franchise business, and he doubted very much that the owners were the same family they had been then. He sat thinking about the DSA of Catherine and Raines for a long time, and when he could no longer stand thinking about it, he drove home.

* * *

River sipped her hazelnut Coke, the popular fizzy drink's newest flavour. She had never been part of a group before. Incredibly, five hours ago as she was sitting in a lecture, a fellow student named Taylor had asked her to join her three friends and their study group. River could not stop smiling. A study group! With other people! She had friends!

She still could not believe that after they had left the library, Taylor had asked her if she had wanted to go with her and her friends to see a movie, which was where she was now, Taylor's friend, Abigail, sitting on her left and teenage boy sitting on her right.

Halfway through the movie she left to get some popcorn from the kiosk. When the movie was finished she went for drinks with her new friends and they talked about the movie.

* * *

Ethan glanced at Emily, sitting beside him on the train. She had been to visit Harmony again and Ethan had gone with her. She was asleep. Ethan did not try to wake her. Instead he thought of the Clausens, the family Raines had once placed him with as a baby and now were dead.

* * *

The walls of Reagan's room had been painted grey. A grey-painted metal bed, plastic chair and table were the only furniture in the room. Storage space that cut into the wall ran along one wall, most of it filled with stuffed toys.

The stuffed penguin that had once belonged to Lyle lay on the bed as though it had been thrown or dropped there.

Parker walked to the storage space and glanced at the clothes, noting that all of Reagan's clothes were things any normal teenager might wear, not like the standard issue Center uniform she remembered.

When her inspection of Reagan's room was finished, she walked to the Chairman's office and asked that all personal items be removed from Reagan's room and his clothes replaced with those issued by the corporation to all such subjects, and when she returned to work the following week, she noted that Reagan was already wearing the uniform she had asked be supplied to him.

* * *

River spent some time practising clarinet, and when she grew tired of that, decided to go out shopping, maybe meet a boy. Walking through Bay Mall, she wondered if she should dye her grey brown hair. It was just that her hair was such a tired shade of brown. If she did dye her hair, she thought, what colour would she change it to? She thought about people whose hair she admired: movie stars and celebrities, actors from a television program she watched regularly, singers whose albums she had bought. Would blonde suit her? She didn't know. She wondered if she should ask Taylor, or Abigail – if she could ask Taylor or Abigail – then changed her mind.

She finished her milkshake and walked to the department store, deciding that she _would_ dye her hair blonde.

* * *

Persephone was wearing a dip-dyed white dress that turned to green at the bottom and prim white heels when Sydney saw her in the parking lot on his way home. When he asked, she told him that she was going to the cemetery.

Sydney frowned at this, but when Persephone wished him goodnight, he nodded and wished her the same.

* * *

The following day, Sydney was introduced to a woman named Martha, a trainer from another branch who was visiting Blue Cove. She was accompanied by a Mexican-looking girl – who Sydney was told was a Pretender – named Aletta. Sydney supposed Martha was thirty and Aletta eighteen. Martha and Aletta were from New Mexico.

Aletta was to be working with Collier, Martha informed Sydney, for an indefinite time period into the future.

Sydney nodded. Quietly, so that Aletta did not hear, he confessed to Martha that he had met few female Pretenders.

"Few is quite a bit more than none at all," Martha replied.

Sydney nodded agreeably. "There was one female named Alicia," he told her.

Martha frowned.

"Alicia, was, I assume, transferred," Sydney explained, though he knew that Alicia had not been transferred, but had been rescued by Catherine Parker.

Later, Collier was also introduced to Aletta. Sydney could tell at once that Aletta made Collier uncomfortable, but he knew it was nothing to do with her being female or a Pretender, it was her appearance, her skin colouring, her facial structure, maybe even the way she spoke. He also knew that Collier would never admit his feelings to anyone, which indicated some sort of awareness to Sydney, though he could say no more beyond that.

* * *

Three hours were allotted to each subject Reagan was sharing his body with, each day, but not on weekends. So far, that number had not risen beyond Saffi and Tia.

Aside from those six hours each weekday, Reagan was still able to continue his normal routine, and he was assigned several Sims to complete by the end of the week.

* * *

_Bobby screamed and screamed and screamed, would not stop screaming. All around him, the forest was dark with night._

_Bobby fell to the ground and lay down upon the freshly dug earth where he had buried Jimmy, but as hard as he tried, he couldn't hear the heartbeat of the earth tonight like he could not hear Jimmy's heartbeat, so he listened to his breathing and the sound of the wind and the night and wished himself away to a galaxy so distant where he lay all alone in the dark and he imagined that he felt nothing, and maybe he wasn't even living at all, and maybe it was all just a strange dream._

_But the trees whispered to him and called him back and told him how Jimmy was dead, sleeping among them now, and how he had killed him, and how they would die too one day, how men and machines would cut them, rip them, kill them. Bobby tried to tell them that he didn't want to leave them, that he would stop the men with machines, but they didn't want to be saved by him, and Bobby wished for the shed and darkness and thoughtlessness and madness and deadness._

_But, no, the trees and the air and the earth told him, he would go on, and he would meet the same end wherever he went because he was a curse upon men, he bought death and destruction and decay, whatever he loved perished, and maybe one day all of that death and horror and pain would turn out for the best, or maybe one day he would stop, stop everything and die, and it wouldn't matter any more that no one cared because if he let just one person care, then all of those that they cared for would die too, and it would be upon him, because he was cursed._

_And be it upon him, the end of the world. The whole world burning._

_Madness come to play._

* * *

Ethan jolted awake. He was shaking, and for some reason he felt like crying. He didn't.

Instead he thought about Bobby's trees and the end of the world. Had the trees been cut down? He had not been to Bobby's town, did not even know its name. Jarod had been though, he remembered, and wondered if he should ask Jarod. Would Jarod even know or care? He didn't know. He wondered why Bobby had cared about some trees, if he had at all. And why did Bobby think the trees could talk to him, and he could talk back to them.

Ethan shook himself mentally. Why was he even thinking about Bobby? Bobby was dead. Besides, Ethan had never liked who he had turned into, though they were half brothers for a while.

Ethan had never known Bobby, and he had never met Paulie. Most of the time, Ethan still thought of Lyle as his half brother, though Parker had told him that Paulie was his half sister and Lyle and he had never really been related just as she and Lyle had never really been twins.

Ethan closed his eyes and tried to get back to sleep. He didn't want to think about Lyle.

* * *

_Angelo made a face at the stuffed thing._

"_It's Tigger," Lyle told him obviously._

_Angelo shot him an annoyed look. He knew its name!_

"_Like, it's supposed to be a… um, lion- no tiger," Lyle explained. "It's a tiger, right."_

"_Urrrgh!" Angelo wasn't very good at imitating a tiger._

"_It's a happy tiger," Lyle said._

_Angelo stared at him._

_Lyle huffed and held Tigger out to Angelo. "It's yours."_

_Angelo stared. He didn't want a baby toy!_

_Lyle rolled his eyes. "For your birthday," he said, trying to get Angelo to take Tigger._

_Angelo stood there staring at him. He still didn't want it._

"_Okay, look," Lyle reached out and grabbed his hand. "Birthday."_

_A birthday party. Music playing. From a radio. Colourful. A lot of children. Cake. And candles._

_Angelo ripped his hand out of Lyle's and shot away from him._

_Lyle shook his head. "Whatever." He turned and walked away, dropped Tigger on the floor._

_Angelo thought about the birthday party. He looked at Tigger. He frowned. After a while, he slowly walked over to the stuffed animal and picked it up off the floor. Tigger was soft and yellow and orange and black._

* * *

"Last name: Tidal. Given name: Timothy Valentine. Date of birth: February 14th, 1960. Siblings: Unknown. Mother: Marquise Tidal. Born 1942. Declared a Missing Person July 6th 1954, aged 12 years."

"The mother is unimportant."

Lyle frowned. "Why?"

"Not important," the man repeated.

Lyle continued his account. "T. V. Tidal. Empath. Class 2. Specialty: None or unknown. Alias: Angelo. Red file number-"

"Don't worry about the RFN."

"Acquired: 1964, aged four years. Capacity at time of acquisition: Untrained. Appearance: Caucasian male, blue eyes, ginger - red - hair. Assigned: Raines, W. R., Researcher, Project Pretender. Director of Med Space, 1967 onwards-"

"I am aware of the terms of Raines's employment," the man interrupted again. "Tell me more about the mother."

"I thought you said-" Lyle began.

"The mother."

"Declared missing in 1954 by her parents. Status: Presumed deceased."

"Siblings?"

"Older sister by five years. Denise. Called Marquise Manda. Deceased."

The man noted this down in the file in front of him. When he had done that, he looked up and glanced across the table at Lyle. "That will be all."

Lyle stood up and handed his report across the table to the man. "The mother – Angelo's grandmother – Penelope Tidal," he said, "she's dead too."

The man frowned slightly. "Tell me, why would I be interested in the grandmother?"

"Maybe Angelo's mother was Empathic?" Lyle said. "And her mother too? Expression is inherited most strongly from the maternal side, isn't it?"

The man said nothing.

Lyle walked to the door and left the room.

* * *

Ethan frowned, glancing at Jarod.

Jarod sighed heavily. So the Tower had known Angelo's real identity all those years. And Lyle had told them. He wondered how Lyle had known. He, himself, had tried to track down Angelo's family with no luck.

"What did he mean 'expression is inherited most strongly from the maternal side'?" Ethan interrupted.

Jarod turned to look at him, studying his expression.

Ethan did not take his eyes from his own.

"He was referring to the expression of the gene anomaly," Jarod explained, "which is inherited largely, as he says, from the maternal parent. In other words, the mother."

Ethan seemed to be staring at nothing. "Raines knew I wouldn't be a Pretender, he knew I would be like her?" he forced out.

"I suppose he did," Jarod replied.

Ethan fell silent.

Jarod ejected the DSA and inserted another. "Though, largely does not mean exclusively…" Jarod considered.

* * *

Ethan shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't looking forward to meeting Paulie for the first time.

Emily, in a Felix the Cat tee shirt and khaki cargo pants, had come along with him, and now sat sipping a strawberry milkshake with a straw, one hand holding his under the table.

When Parker arrived, a woman walking with her, Ethan realised a little slowly who the woman must be. Like Parker, Paulie was fair-skinned, slim, dark-haired and blue-eyed, but she was not what Ethan had expected. He supposed he had expected them to look more alike.

Paulie, too, was looking at him oddly, maybe thinking the same thing about him that he was about her.

It took a moment for Ethan to realise that Paulie was not looking at him at all, but at Emily. Then he noticed that Parker _was_ staring at him.

Parker and Paulie reached the table, and Emily got to her feet to greet them.

Ethan quickly stood up also.

Emily spoke first. "Hello," she greeted the newcomers happily and stepped forward to hug each of them.

"Sister," Ethan said to Parker.

Parker nodded.

Ethan glanced at Paulie, his expression strained. "I'm Ethan," he said lamely.

"Paulie," Paulie offered irritably, thrusting out a hand.

They shook hands.

"This is Emily," Ethan explained of Emily. "She's not- my girlfriend. Half sister."

Standing beside him, Emily leaned toward him and half hugged him.

Parker and Paulie took seats, Paulie glancing at Parker.

"How are you?" Paulie asked Emily suddenly.

Emily smiled. "I'm having a baby," she replied.

Paulie stared at her.

"Someone else's baby," Ethan said automatically, irritable.

Emily smiled at him. "A beautiful baby girl," she told Paulie, somehow happier than before.

Paulie nodded, but did not say anything.

"Ethan has been so excited about meeting you," Emily said.

For a moment, Ethan didn't realise what Emily had said, except Paulie was suddenly staring at him awkwardly, and he suddenly realised what it was exactly Emily had said, and even though it wasn't at all true, he blushed stupidly.

Paulie diverted her eyes from his and glanced at a spot of empty space in front of her instead.

Ethan looked at Emily quickly, annoyed, and noticed her smiling at him. He wondered if there was something funny in her milkshake and considered taking it off her. "Did you know that expression is inherited strongest from the maternal side?" Ethan asked Parker, ignoring Paulie altogether.

Parker shot him a strange look, annoyed by his stuttering as much as his sudden off-topic question. "I've heard it said, yes," she replied indifferently.

Ethan almost said something back to her, then changed his mind.

"Expression of the anomaly, do you mean?" Paulie asked.

Ethan stared at her for a moment, before looking away. "I mean," he grumbled unenthusiastically, settling back into his usual glumness.

"You got married!" Emily cried suddenly, spying the diamond ring on Paulie's left hand.

Paulie's eyes darted to her face in alarm. "Yeah," she replied.

Emily smiled, waiting for Paulie to tell her who she had married.

"Broots and I," Paulie muttered.

"That's so wonderful!" Emily said.

Ethan looked at her strangely. He'd never heard Emily say that she'd thought marriage was _so wonderful_ before.

"So, have you ever thought about having your own baby?" Paulie asked Emily, reasonably pleased to be a part of a less awkward conversation.

Emily didn't stop smiling, but something in her eyes changed. Ethan thought that she looked tired. "I have," she replied.

"My Anton will be 13 this year," Paulie told her.

Ethan supposed Anton was her son.

"Do you have anyone?" Paulie asked Emily.

Emily smiled a bit more. "Am I going out with someone?" Emily rephrased.

Ethan glanced at her, wondering why she had used the words 'going out with someone' instead of 'seeing someone' or 'dating someone'.

"He's very nice," Emily told Paulie honestly.

"Do you love him?" Ethan asked suddenly.

Emily turned and looked at him. "I don't know yet," she confided brightly.

"You've been in love before?" Ethan said, fixing his gaze with hers.

"Of course I have," Emily said.

"Well, then," Ethan replied.

Emily frowned for the first time since Parker and Paulie's arrival.

Ethan ignored Parker's attempts to catch his eye and kept his gaze firmly locked with Emily's.

"I wouldn't be disappointed if I did fall in love with him," Emily answered, "and if he fell in love with me back."

Ethan stared at her. "What happened before? You just fell out of love…?"

Emily started to laugh, and covered her hand with her mouth. "I got a little bit older and I realised that he didn't love me," she said calmly, when she had stopped laughing, "and that I didn't really know him at all."

"It happens," Parker said from across the table, causing Ethan to look away from Emily.

He glared at Parker.

"He didn't cheat on you, did he?" Paulie gasped conversationally.

Emily laughed again, but it wasn't the same laughter as before, but softer. She shook her head.

Ethan wanted Paulie to ask Emily if he had hurt her, but she didn't press the matter any further, instead changing the subject to shoes and cutting Ethan out of the conversation.

"Did he hit you?" Ethan asked abruptly, interrupting something Parker was saying.

Emily looked at Ethan. "No," she told him seriously, as though hoping he would stop now.

"Then why'd you stop loving him?"

Emily's eyes went abruptly watery. "Stop now, Ethan," she said, her voice a strange mixture between firmness and gentleness.

Ethan wanted to shout at her, wanted to make her tell him the truth. He didn't.

Emily did not smile, she just looked away from him and told Parker and Paulie about a pair of leopard print high heels she had recently seen.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	58. Chapter 58

Sydney spent the morning meeting Kenna, and then Sheena. After that, he spent the rest of the day running a Simulation with Collier.

After work, he decided that he would have dinner out. He chose a little diner he had been to before, one he knew Raines had come to often. He was amazed that it was still around after so many years, though these days it seemed to have developed into a franchise business, and he doubted very much that the owners were the same family they had been then. He sat thinking about the DSA of Catherine and Raines for a long time, and when he could no longer stand thinking about it, he drove home.

* * *

River sipped her hazelnut Coke, the popular fizzy drink's newest flavour. She had never been part of a group before. Incredibly, five hours ago as she was sitting in a lecture, a fellow student named Taylor had asked her to join her three friends and their study group. River could not stop smiling. A study group! With other people! She had friends!

She still could not believe that after they had left the library, Taylor had asked her if she had wanted to go with her and her friends to see a movie, which was where she was now, Taylor's friend, Abigail, sitting on her left and teenage boy sitting on her right.

Halfway through the movie she left to get some popcorn from the kiosk. When the movie was finished she went for drinks with her new friends and they talked about the movie.

* * *

Ethan glanced at Emily, sitting beside him on the train. She had been to visit Harmony again and Ethan had gone with her. She was asleep. Ethan did not try to wake her. Instead he thought of the Clausens, the family Raines had once placed him with as a baby and now were dead.

* * *

The walls of Reagan's room had been painted grey. A grey-painted metal bed, plastic chair and table were the only furniture in the room. Storage space that cut into the wall ran along one wall, most of it filled with stuffed toys.

The stuffed penguin that had once belonged to Lyle lay on the bed as though it had been thrown or dropped there.

Parker walked to the storage space and glanced at the clothes, noting that all of Reagan's clothes were things any normal teenager might wear, not like the standard issue Center uniform she remembered.

When her inspection of Reagan's room was finished, she walked to the Chairman's office and asked that all personal items be removed from Reagan's room and his clothes replaced with those issued by the corporation to all such subjects, and when she returned to work the following week, she noted that Reagan was already wearing the uniform she had asked be supplied to him.

* * *

River spent some time practising clarinet, and when she grew tired of that, decided to go out shopping, maybe meet a boy. Walking through Bay Mall, she wondered if she should dye her grey brown hair. It was just that her hair was such a tired shade of brown. If she did dye her hair, she thought, what colour would she change it to? She thought about people whose hair she admired: movie stars and celebrities, actors from a television program she watched regularly, singers whose albums she had bought. Would blonde suit her? She didn't know. She wondered if she should ask Taylor, or Abigail – if she could ask Taylor or Abigail – then changed her mind.

She finished her milkshake and walked to the department store, deciding that she _would_ dye her hair blonde.

* * *

Persephone was wearing a dip-dyed white dress that turned to green at the bottom and prim white heels when Sydney saw her in the parking lot on his way home. When he asked, she told him that she was going to the cemetery.

Sydney frowned at this, but when Persephone wished him goodnight, he nodded and wished her the same.

* * *

The following day, Sydney was introduced to a woman named Martha, a trainer from another branch who was visiting Blue Cove. She was accompanied by a Mexican-looking girl – who Sydney was told was a Pretender – named Aletta. Sydney supposed Martha was thirty and Aletta eighteen. Martha and Aletta were from New Mexico.

Aletta was to be working with Collier, Martha informed Sydney, for an indefinite time period into the future.

Sydney nodded. Quietly, so that Aletta did not hear, he confessed to Martha that he had met few female Pretenders.

"Few is quite a bit more than none at all," Martha replied.

Sydney nodded agreeably. "There was one female named Alicia," he told her.

Martha frowned.

"Alicia, was, I assume, transferred," Sydney explained, though he knew that Alicia had not been transferred, but had been rescued by Catherine Parker.

Later, Collier was also introduced to Aletta. Sydney could tell at once that Aletta made Collier uncomfortable, but he knew it was nothing to do with her being female or a Pretender, it was her appearance, her skin colouring, her facial structure, maybe even the way she spoke. He also knew that Collier would never admit his feelings to anyone, which indicated some sort of awareness to Sydney, though he could say no more beyond that.

* * *

Three hours were allotted to each subject Reagan was sharing his body with, each day, but not on weekends. So far, that number had not risen beyond Saffi and Tia.

Aside from those six hours each weekday, Reagan was still able to continue his normal routine, and he was assigned several Sims to complete by the end of the week.

* * *

_Bobby screamed and screamed and screamed, would not stop screaming. All around him, the forest was dark with night._

_Bobby fell to the ground and lay down upon the freshly dug earth where he had buried Jimmy, but as hard as he tried, he couldn't hear the heartbeat of the earth tonight like he could not hear Jimmy's heartbeat, so he listened to his breathing and the sound of the wind and the night and wished himself away to a galaxy so distant where he lay all alone in the dark and he imagined that he felt nothing, and maybe he wasn't even living at all, and maybe it was all just a strange dream._

_But the trees whispered to him and called him back and told him how Jimmy was dead, sleeping among them now, and how he had killed him, and how they would die too one day, how men and machines would cut them, rip them, kill them. Bobby tried to tell them that he didn't want to leave them, that he would stop the men with machines, but they didn't want to be saved by him, and Bobby wished for the shed and darkness and thoughtlessness and madness and deadness._

_But, no, the trees and the air and the earth told him, he would go on, and he would meet the same end wherever he went because he was a curse upon men, he bought death and destruction and decay, whatever he loved perished, and maybe one day all of that death and horror and pain would turn out for the best, or maybe one day he would stop, stop everything and die, and it wouldn't matter any more that no one cared because if he let just one person care, then all of those that they cared for would die too, and it would be upon him, because he was cursed._

_And be it upon him, the end of the world. The whole world burning._

_Madness come to play._

* * *

Ethan jolted awake. He was shaking, and for some reason he felt like crying. He didn't.

Instead he thought about Bobby's trees and the end of the world. Had the trees been cut down? He had not been to Bobby's town, did not even know its name. Jarod had been though, he remembered, and wondered if he should ask Jarod. Would Jarod even know or care? He didn't know. He wondered why Bobby had cared about some trees, if he had at all. And why did Bobby think the trees could talk to him, and he could talk back to them.

Ethan shook himself mentally. Why was he even thinking about Bobby? Bobby was dead. Besides, Ethan had never liked who he had turned into, though they were half brothers for a while.

Ethan had never known Bobby, and he had never met Paulie. Most of the time, Ethan still thought of Lyle as his half brother, though Parker had told him that Paulie was his half sister and Lyle and he had never really been related just as she and Lyle had never really been twins.

Ethan closed his eyes and tried to get back to sleep. He didn't want to think about Lyle.

* * *

_Angelo made a face at the stuffed thing._

"_It's Tigger," Lyle told him obviously._

_Angelo shot him an annoyed look. He knew its name!_

"_Like, it's supposed to be a… um, lion- no tiger," Lyle explained. "It's a tiger, right."_

"_Urrrgh!" Angelo wasn't very good at imitating a tiger._

"_It's a happy tiger," Lyle said._

_Angelo stared at him._

_Lyle huffed and held Tigger out to Angelo. "It's yours."_

_Angelo stared. He didn't want a baby toy!_

_Lyle rolled his eyes. "For your birthday," he said, trying to get Angelo to take Tigger._

_Angelo stood there staring at him. He still didn't want it._

"_Okay, look," Lyle reached out and grabbed his hand. "Birthday."_

_A birthday party. Music playing. From a radio. Colourful. A lot of children. Cake. And candles._

_Angelo ripped his hand out of Lyle's and shot away from him._

_Lyle shook his head. "Whatever." He turned and walked away, dropped Tigger on the floor._

_Angelo thought about the birthday party. He looked at Tigger. He frowned. After a while, he slowly walked over to the stuffed animal and picked it up off the floor. Tigger was soft and yellow and orange and black._

* * *

"Last name: Tidal. Given name: Timothy Valentine. Date of birth: February 14th, 1960. Siblings: Unknown. Mother: Marquise Tidal. Born 1942. Declared a Missing Person July 6th 1954, aged 12 years."

"The mother is unimportant."

Lyle frowned. "Why?"

"Not important," the man repeated.

Lyle continued his account. "T. V. Tidal. Empath. Class 2. Specialty: None or unknown. Alias: Angelo. Red file number-"

"Don't worry about the RFN."

"Acquired: 1964, aged four years. Capacity at time of acquisition: Untrained. Appearance: Caucasian male, blue eyes, ginger - red - hair. Assigned: Raines, W. R., Researcher, Project Pretender. Director of Med Space, 1967 onwards-"

"I am aware of the terms of Raines's employment," the man interrupted again. "Tell me more about the mother."

"I thought you said-" Lyle began.

"The mother."

"Declared missing in 1954 by her parents. Status: Presumed deceased."

"Siblings?"

"Older sister by five years. Denise. Called Marquise Manda. Deceased."

The man noted this down in the file in front of him. When he had done that, he looked up and glanced across the table at Lyle. "That will be all."

Lyle stood up and handed his report across the table to the man. "The mother – Angelo's grandmother – Penelope Tidal," he said, "she's dead too."

The man frowned slightly. "Tell me, why would I be interested in the grandmother?"

"Maybe Angelo's mother was Empathic?" Lyle said. "And her mother too? Expression is inherited most strongly from the maternal side, isn't it?"

The man said nothing.

Lyle walked to the door and left the room.

* * *

Ethan frowned, glancing at Jarod.

Jarod sighed heavily. So the Tower had known Angelo's real identity all those years. And Lyle had told them. He wondered how Lyle had known. He, himself, had tried to track down Angelo's family with no luck.

"What did he mean 'expression is inherited most strongly from the maternal side'?" Ethan interrupted.

Jarod turned to look at him, studying his expression.

Ethan did not take his eyes from his own.

"He was referring to the expression of the gene anomaly," Jarod explained, "which is inherited largely, as he says, from the maternal parent. In other words, the mother."

Ethan seemed to be staring at nothing. "Raines knew I wouldn't be a Pretender, he knew I would be like her?" he forced out.

"I suppose he did," Jarod replied.

Ethan fell silent.

Jarod ejected the DSA and inserted another. "Though, largely does not mean exclusively…" Jarod considered.

* * *

Ethan shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't looking forward to meeting Paulie for the first time.

Emily, in a Felix the Cat tee shirt and khaki cargo pants, had come along with him, and now sat sipping a strawberry milkshake with a straw, one hand holding his under the table.

When Parker arrived, a woman walking with her, Ethan realised a little slowly who the woman must be. Like Parker, Paulie was fair-skinned, slim, dark-haired and blue-eyed, but she was not what Ethan had expected. He supposed he had expected them to look more alike.

Paulie, too, was looking at him oddly, maybe thinking the same thing about him that he was about her.

It took a moment for Ethan to realise that Paulie was not looking at him at all, but at Emily. Then he noticed that Parker _was_ staring at him.

Parker and Paulie reached the table, and Emily got to her feet to greet them.

Ethan quickly stood up also.

Emily spoke first. "Hello," she greeted the newcomers happily and stepped forward to hug each of them.

"Sister," Ethan said to Parker.

Parker nodded.

Ethan glanced at Paulie, his expression strained. "I'm Ethan," he said lamely.

"Paulie," Paulie offered irritably, thrusting out a hand.

They shook hands.

"This is Emily," Ethan explained of Emily. "She's not- my girlfriend. Half sister."

Standing beside him, Emily leaned toward him and half hugged him.

Parker and Paulie took seats, Paulie glancing at Parker.

"How are you?" Paulie asked Emily suddenly.

Emily smiled. "I'm having a baby," she replied.

Paulie stared at her.

"Someone else's baby," Ethan said automatically, irritable.

Emily smiled at him. "A beautiful baby girl," she told Paulie, somehow happier than before.

Paulie nodded, but did not say anything.

"Ethan has been so excited about meeting you," Emily said.

For a moment, Ethan didn't realise what Emily had said, except Paulie was suddenly staring at him awkwardly, and he suddenly realised what it was exactly Emily had said, and even though it wasn't at all true, he blushed stupidly.

Paulie diverted her eyes from his and glanced at a spot of empty space in front of her instead.

Ethan looked at Emily quickly, annoyed, and noticed her smiling at him. He wondered if there was something funny in her milkshake and considered taking it off her. "Did you know that expression is inherited strongest from the maternal side?" Ethan asked Parker, ignoring Paulie altogether.

Parker shot him a strange look, annoyed by his stuttering as much as his sudden off-topic question. "I've heard it said, yes," she replied indifferently.

Ethan almost said something back to her, then changed his mind.

"Expression of the anomaly, do you mean?" Paulie asked.

Ethan stared at her for a moment, before looking away. "I mean," he grumbled unenthusiastically, settling back into his usual glumness.

"You got married!" Emily cried suddenly, spying the diamond ring on Paulie's left hand.

Paulie's eyes darted to her face in alarm. "Yeah," she replied.

Emily smiled, waiting for Paulie to tell her who she had married.

"Broots and I," Paulie muttered.

"That's so wonderful!" Emily said.

Ethan looked at her strangely. He'd never heard Emily say that she'd thought marriage was _so wonderful_ before.

"So, have you ever thought about having your own baby?" Paulie asked Emily, reasonably pleased to be a part of a less awkward conversation.

Emily didn't stop smiling, but something in her eyes changed. Ethan thought that she looked tired. "I have," she replied.

"My Anton will be 13 this year," Paulie told her.

Ethan supposed Anton was her son.

"Do you have anyone?" Paulie asked Emily.

Emily smiled a bit more. "Am I going out with someone?" Emily rephrased.

Ethan glanced at her, wondering why she had used the words 'going out with someone' instead of 'seeing someone' or 'dating someone'.

"He's very nice," Emily told Paulie honestly.

"Do you love him?" Ethan asked suddenly.

Emily turned and looked at him. "I don't know yet," she confided brightly.

"You've been in love before?" Ethan said, fixing his gaze with hers.

"Of course I have," Emily said.

"Well, then," Ethan replied.

Emily frowned for the first time since Parker and Paulie's arrival.

Ethan ignored Parker's attempts to catch his eye and kept his gaze firmly locked with Emily's.

"I wouldn't be disappointed if I did fall in love with him," Emily answered, "and if he fell in love with me back."

Ethan stared at her. "What happened before? You just fell out of love…?"

Emily started to laugh, and covered her hand with her mouth. "I got a little bit older and I realised that he didn't love me," she said calmly, when she had stopped laughing, "and that I didn't really know him at all."

"It happens," Parker said from across the table, causing Ethan to look away from Emily.

He glared at Parker.

"He didn't cheat on you, did he?" Paulie gasped conversationally.

Emily laughed again, but it wasn't the same laughter as before, but softer. She shook her head.

Ethan wanted Paulie to ask Emily if he had hurt her, but she didn't press the matter any further, instead changing the subject to shoes and cutting Ethan out of the conversation.

"Did he hit you?" Ethan asked abruptly, interrupting something Parker was saying.

Emily looked at Ethan. "No," she told him seriously, as though hoping he would stop now.

"Then why'd you stop loving him?"

Emily's eyes went abruptly watery. "Stop now, Ethan," she said, her voice a strange mixture between firmness and gentleness.

Ethan wanted to shout at her, wanted to make her tell him the truth. He didn't.

Emily did not smile, she just looked away from him and told Parker and Paulie about a pair of leopard print high heels she had recently seen.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	59. Chapter 59

Two years ago, Persephone had gotten her own flat, moved out of Center accommodation, and she was quite used to it now. It was her home.

She parked her car in the shared shed without any walls but with a roof, in the little loose gravel parking bay where her flat number was indicated on the metal fence behind the shed.

The row of flats was directly across from the shed when she stepped out of her car and turned around, closing and locking the car door after her. She strode across a small open stretch of loose gravel and stopped on the concrete step in front of her door to open the wire screen door and fish the key out of her pocket.

Inside, she shut the door behind her and leant her back against it, wondering if she should have brought her paperwork home with her to work on rather than not. It seemed silly now, not to have. It wouldn't motivate her to go out, it would just end up with her trying to find something with a bit of watching worth on television, failing and watching whatever was on anyway, and going to bed too late because she had stayed up to watch the only moderately promising thing on – according to the television guide in the local newspaper, _The Blue Cove Bonanza_ – determined not to have wasted her time entirely.

She'd used to like funny programs, comedy, but all of that stuff was rather unfunny now. Once upon a time, funny was about being clever, but nowadays everything funny on television was too silly to be funny at all. She'd probably watch _The Simpsons_, she thought.

She walked into the small lounge that adjoined an even smaller kitchenette thinking about her paperwork again. She had had dinner at a roadhouse – service station with a diner sort of set up, a few shelves of things you might find in a convenience store tacked on for good measure – at which she gone to a few times with Raines in her youth and had taken to frequenting regularly since she had found herself a place of her own and didn't eat dinner in the Center dining hall anymore (amazed it still existed!).

She was awful at cooking.

* * *

Sydney could not believe what he was hearing, though Martha appeared perfectly serious.

This way was better, she said. Safer, cheaper, more reliable. Better in so many ways.

She continued listing the pros and cons off as she stood watching Sydney, having turned away from the window she had been watching earlier, but Sydney couldn't block out the sounds of what was going on in the other room. And then Martha was handing him a file that would confirm the Tower's stamp of approval she had explained off-the-bat, eager that once Sydney knew that it was fine, that he would approve also.

Begrudgingly, Sydney scanned the file briefly. He didn't care about the Tower sanction. He could do nothing about that. He cared that he had not been told of the real 'co-operation' that would be happening between Collier and Aletta.

Sydney shoved the folder at Martha and walked out. He wasn't going to stand around and watch that.

* * *

The cover the Burns Group ran was that they were safety inspectors contracted out by the government to examine workplaces. It was a helpful cover. Pam liked it. This year was her fifth working for The Burns Group. Her boss was a woman named Beverly. Her job was Recruitment. Her partner was a 17-year-old Pretender named Jodie. Jodie was tech support.

They had been watching the man for three days. 28 years old, a Pretender. Jodie was a bit unimpressed. For being a Pretender and all, he still hadn't noticed that he was being followed, and not just by Pam and Jodie.

That was how they'd found him, by tailing another group who'd been tracking him. The group they'd followed hailed from Alabama and was part of the Center Corporation, who dealt in the same business as they did.

Jodie sucked mango frappe through a straw, already bored although the day had just begun, plus, she'd nearly finished her large frappe. A few minutes later, she stood up and sauntered lazily to the counter, where the man was serving, and ordered another mango frappe. When she returned with her frozen drink, she promptly told Pam that the man wasn't a Pretender. He had to be something else. He was too dumb to be a Pretender.

Or he had just made them, Pam retorted.

Jodie paused, stopped sipping her frappe. Pam was blaming her!

* * *

Pam and Jodie were waiting for him in the employee locker room when it was time to take break.

Pam had a gun.

* * *

Jodie huffed, plopping herself down in a seat. She didn't care what Pam said, there was no way frappe boy was a Pretender. Pretenders didn't fuck up on orders, and he'd given her a kiwi frappe instead of mango. "FYI: mango is orange, brainiac!" She stretched the word out. "Orrraaange."

The man was sitting across from her, handcuffed to the seat. He remained quiet.

Jodie rolled her eyes. Wow, big surprise there! She was bored. She glanced around the cabin, but it was all just more boring stuff. Pam was off at the front of the jet. She turned back to the man.

He was watching her blankly.

Jodie grinned. She jumped to her feet and planted herself down in his lap. She leant forward and whispered in his ear. "It's just you and me, frappe boy."

* * *

"Freeze!"

Cindy went absolutely still for a moment, then she slowly started to turn.

"I said 'freeze'!" the voice warned.

Cindy stared. She had turned around enough so that she could see the man. He was holding a gun aimed at her chest. He also looked a lot like another man she had seen before named Jarod. The man who had been with the woman whose clone she was. _He's a clone too,_ Cindy thought. Though he was obviously younger than Jarod, 35 maybe, and he dressed differently. "Are you… Gemini?" she asked.

The man glared.

"I'm sorry!" Cindy said. He had been named after the program that had been created for the purpose of cloning individuals, Project Gemini. There was no reason to think he had kept that name. "Maybe you have another name now?" she asked.

The man's glare did not shift.

"My name is Cindy," she told him.

"What are you doing here?" the man demanded.

"I came to see my brother," Cindy replied honestly. "His name is Ethan."

The blue eyes glinted. He knew who Ethan was. "Mo. Not Gemini," he growled in a low voice.

_Strange, their eyes are different colours,_ Cindy thought.

* * *

Mo took Cindy to Ethan, telling Ethan that Cindy had come to see him. He still hadn't put the gun away, but he wasn't pointing it at Cindy anymore.

"I know who she is," Ethan replied, glancing at Parker's clone.

* * *

Jodie had chosen a seat opposite the man when Pam returned. Jodie rolled her eyes. "I'm dead, Pam," she declared. "I died of boredom."

Pam said nothing to this, her attention on the man. "What is your name?"

The man did not answer.

"Can I guess?" Jodie interrupted girlishly.

"Stop speaking!" Pam ordered sharply.

Jodie went quiet, and slouched in her chair, glaring uncomfortably.

"Name?" Pam repeated.

The man looked at her. "Robert," he replied blankly, glancing away again.

"And you're 28, Robert?"

"29."

"A Pretender."

"Yes."

Pam recapped this in her head before walking away.

"Can I call you Robbie?" Jodie asked when Pam had gone.

Robert ignored her.

"Pam's 26." Jodie was still slouched in the chair, now looking at the ceiling thoughtfully. "26 and a bitch." She dropped her gaze from the ceiling. "You know, I'm a Pretender too."

Robert glanced at her.

Jodie sat up properly. "We're the same, Robbie," she told him.

* * *

"I know that," Collier said. He wasn't stupid. And Martha had told him all that.

"Do you want a baby?" Sydney asked.

Collier frowned. "It's not mine," he told Sydney. "It's hers. If it wasn't for the company, I wouldn't even have looked at her twice."

"You will be the father, Collier," Sydney said. "It won't just be Aletta's baby."

Collier shrugged. "I don't care," he said. "I don't want it. I did it because they told me to. They can have it. I don't want an ugly baby. If she was just some chic – 'normal', or whatever – I'd make her get rid of it."

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	60. Chapter 60

The DNA test confirmed the presence of the anomaly, Pam told Robert. He was going to stay with them from now on.

Robert said nothing. He wasn't upset, or afraid, or excited. He just watched her talking and didn't ask questions or make comments.

Sometimes the Pretenders unsettled Pam. How, on the surface, some of them just didn't seem to care, or how, like Jodie, they could switch from being safe to dangerous so quickly. Though she wondered if that was just the way she saw them, from the outside looking inside. It was guesswork. But then, maybe there was nothing more inside than there was outside.

* * *

Jodie was upset. She was snapping at everyone she met and felt like punching something or someone. And all because her stupid boyfriend had said she was a control freak, then dumped her.

She stomped off to her cubicle and sat, spinning around in her roller chair. She even hated the stupid chair right now. And she couldn't even think about doing work. Then she'd probably just get angry and smash the stupid computer. So she spun around in her chair, feeling sick and making herself feel even sicker.

* * *

Jodie got up out of her roller chair, feeling like she wanted to puke, and went for a walk to get a Coke from the vending machine.

It wasn't until she actually had the can in her hand that she realised that she probably wasn't going to drink it. If she did, it would definitely make her puke.

She started to walk back to her cubicle. She changed her mind about the Coke and opened the can. Then she ran to the bathroom and threw up.

* * *

Robert was looking through files and books when Jodie found him in R197, one of the study rooms on the first floor. He was researching for a Simulation, Jodie supposed. She didn't run Sims anymore, not since she had been assigned to Recruitment for the Department of Security and Operations (DSO), plus she worked the rest of the time in the Department of Information Technology (DIT). (The Burns Group loved all those sorts of official sounding names!)

Sometimes Jodie missed running Sims. She glanced across the room to where Robert was sitting at a table, frowning at something. He was wearing a pair of reading glasses, she noted, though she had not seen him do so when he had worked at the coffee lounge where he had been making frappes. In any case, she decided, they made him look studious. "What are you working on?" she asked, finally speaking.

Robert looked up suddenly. "How did you get in here?" he asked.

Jodie rolled her eyes. "Pop quiz, Robbie. Question: True or false? Jodie is a Pretender. Answer: True. Jodie is awesome and totally rocks!"

Robert smiled.

Jodie made a face. "Don't laugh at me," she warned him.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	61. Chapter 61

In 1976, Misery held a Valentine's Day Ball at the town hall. Ignacia wore a bronze evening dress and matching slippers. Her parents had hired the dress and shoes from a store in Addison especially for the occasion.

Ignacia and Bobby had come together, and were standing in the parking lot beside Jimmy's pick up truck singing along to a song on the radio, Bobby's parents standing at the entrance to the hall talking with Dr. Hooper, Jimmy at his father's side.

"Sing with us, Chelsea!" Ignacia shouted to Chelsea, who was sitting in the back seat of the pick up. Chelsea was Jimmy's date for the evening and was wearing a pale pink evening dress.

Chelsea did not look at Ignacia, but continued to stare straight ahead of her.

Ignacia glanced across the parking lot to where Jimmy was talking with his father. Lyle and Elsie Bowman had gone inside.

Chelsea's best friend, Ivy, had come with Coby Howl, but Ivy would be inside collecting and selling tickets. Ivy had been talking about it since Friday of last week and Ignacia could see Coby's car in the parking lot beside her parents'.

Besides, Ignacia knew Ivy would never turn up late to anything, and that meant she had to have arrived earlier if she was going to be taking and giving out tickets. Ignacia shifted her gaze from Jimmy and his father, her eyes lingering on the doorway, but Ivy was nowhere in sight, even though she had said she was only going to be working the ticket desk for the first hour.

When she turned away from the hall, Chelsea was sitting on the bonnet beside Bobby, kicking her legs absently.

Ignacia walked to the front of the pick up and looked at Chelsea's face and depressed expression.

Bobby slipped off the bonnet and turned back to Chelsea, holding out his arms. "I'll catch you."

Ignacia let her eyes wander past Chelsea's doubtful face and saw that Jimmy was coming over.

As he was walking, he shook his head to himself.

Ignacia frowned. Had he had an argument with his father? she wondered. He looked upset.

In front of her, Chelsea squealed as she slid off the bonnet and Bobby caught her and spun around in the circle, still holding her. "Don't be silly, Bobby Joe!" she cried in reprimand. Bobby put her down, and she quickly stepped away from him.

"I'm sorry."

Chelsea held his gaze, almost glaring at him, then she turned away and took Jimmy's arm as he walked over, pulling him after her, away from Ignacia and Bobby.

Ignacia grabbed Bobby's hand. They walked inside.

* * *

Ignacia expected to see Lyle and Elsie dancing together, but she didn't. Elsie stayed sitting down whilst Lyle occasionally stood up or walked away to talk to someone.

Eventually, Elsie was persuaded onto the dance floor by Bobby.

Ignacia laughed so much. Her own parents had been dancing together for the last forty minutes, though she wasn't embarrassed the way Ivy had said she had been when, earlier in the evening, her parents had shared one dance.

Elsie did not stop frowning. She really hadn't wanted to dance at all, Ignacia suspected. And when the song was over, replaced by another, she walked back to where she had been sitting before and sat back down.

Bobby came over and put his arms around Ignacia and hugged her.

Ignacia watched Coby dancing with Chelsea, no doubt having been talked into it by Ivy, who was dancing with Jimmy. She slipped her arms around Bobby's back and hugged him back.

* * *

Indiana lay down on the bed and gazed up at the ceiling. Eastwood leant down and kissed her mouth, a hand moving to squeeze her breast. Kirk picked up her hand and slid a finger between his lips. Indiana closed her eyes.

* * *

Toto Lee Howl stared out at the mall parking lot, her head rested against the glass window. Her mother, Callie, was sitting in the front seat talking to her mother, Toto's grandmother, Ivy.

It was Callie's best friend's birthday in a few days and Callie wanted to get her something special.

Toto thought about her own upcoming birthday, when she would turn 12. Then she thought about her mom's best friend, Amanda. Callie and Amanda had been in the same grade at school and were both 37, at least they would be after Amanda's birthday. Amanda's mother, Chelsea, and Ivy had been in the same grade at school and were best friends too. Sometimes Toto wished she had a best friend, or that she could tell her grandparents who her father was.

Toto sighed and took her head away from the glass and opened the car door. Her mom and grandma were still talking up the front, so she shut the door behind her and leant against the side of the car and stared up at the sky.

Before she was born, her mother had spent two years in a coma in a hospital in Addison.

Toto closed her eyes and wondered what her other grandma looked like, her father's mom, or what her baby brother, Crais, would look like when he was born in four months.

* * *

Toto was playing with her Pixel Chic, whilst Callie looked at novels, and Ivy was in the next aisle reading a magazine after they'd had an argument.

"Mom," Toto heard her mother say in a strange voice. She stopped playing with her game and looked at her mom and the wet patch she was standing over on the floor.

* * *

Toto was back in the car, staring straight ahead of her. Ivy had first made her stay in the waiting room in the hospital, and now she was sitting in the car with her grandpa, Coby, who had driven in from Misery and had brought Amanda and Chelsea too. Amanda had gone into the hospital to wait with Ivy, but Chelsea was sitting up the front with Toto's grandpa.

Toto just kept staring ahead of her, repeating over and over in her head: _Please don't let him die. Please don't let him die. Please don't let him die._

Nobody was speaking and the car was perfectly quiet except for the sounds from outside.

Chelsea, who had stayed in the car for Toto's sake, though she would rather have been inside with Ivy, shifted in her seat and said: "Are you hungry, Toto? It's almost lunchtime."

Coby looked at her as though he thought she was mad.

"I want a pie," Toto told her, though she didn't really want a pie at all, she didn't even want anything to eat. She wanted her dad, and she wanted him to tell her that everything was going to be alright.

Coby didn't say that he wouldn't drive them, but he didn't say anything else to them either, so Chelsea got out of the car and went around to the back door and opened it for Toto and the pair walked off, holding hands, to get a pie.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	62. Chapter 62

Toto's father was a nurse. He hadn't always been a nurse. He'd worked in a supermarket once, first stocking shelves and cleaning things, and then on the register in the express lane. But that was before Toto had been born.

He'd worked in the same supermarket as her mother and Amanda, and it wasn't until Callie had had the accident that had put her in a coma that he'd been put on the registers. The express lane had been her job. And then when she'd come out of her coma, he'd left the supermarket, and Callie had gotten her old job back.

Her parents weren't the same age. Her mother was older by two years. They hadn't even gone to the same school. Her father had dropped out of high school. Her mother had told her that when they'd first met, she hadn't liked her father at all. She used to throw fresh mint Tic Tacs at him, which was how she'd gotten the nickname Mint. (Amanda's nickname was Strawberry because she liked strawberries.) It was only later that they became friends. When she'd been sleeping.

She'd thought she was going to go mad, go mad and then die. But then Toto's father had come to the hospital – Toto's father had asthma – and he'd walked straight into her and knocked her over. Except she was still sleeping in her bed, and it was only her shadow that had gone walking. That was when they'd become friends, and how Toto had been made.

Toto knew that her mom had still been sleeping when she'd been made, her mom had told her, and even though it sounded really awful, she didn't think it was really awful at all. She'd thought she was going to die. She'd been so scared. Even though she probably couldn't understand, Callie had told Toto, she hadn't wanted to die without ever having had sex. Maybe it was silly, maybe she should have thought about what other people would think, but she didn't, and it didn't feel silly.

It was after she'd realised that she didn't want to die a virgin, that she also realised that if she died her parents would be all alone, and maybe she was going to die, maybe that was what this feeling meant, but maybe she could leave them something to remember her by, something that they could love just as much. Callie had smiled then.

Of course, she hadn't told her father this last part. She hadn't wanted to scare him. So she'd asked, and he'd said 'yes,' and Toto had been made. And then she'd woken up.

From the day she had woken up, she'd always wanted to tell Amanda, but this time it was her turn to be a good friend. So she didn't say anything. She'd let Amanda and her parents think this horrible thing had happened to her that she had no conscious memory of, she'd let them think that Toto's father had to be a monster for what he had done to her – she'd wanted to tell them, she'd wanted to tell them all so much, but she just couldn't, it wasn't her fault, and it wasn't Toto's father's fault, it had all been so long ago, before either of them had even been born – but they'd loved Toto anyway, because she'd brought Callie back to them, and that was how they knew she would never ever turn out like her father.

But then, for a long time Callie had thought that she would never tell Toto the story of how she had been made, she'd told herself that she was too young to understand – and even though no one had ever told Toto what her father had done to her mother – she knew she had to tell her the truth before she found out someone else's version. She'd wanted Toto to know that both of her parents loved her, and that even though they weren't in love, they cared about each other very much.

But Toto had a secret. Because her parents did love each other.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	63. Chapter 63

Parker picked up the next page and continued reading. Saffi was working in a lab on SL-17 with her Reagan suit and Robin, a Tower Sweeper.

The file Parker was reading was about a Pretender who, according to a notice at the start of the file, was missing due to the efforts of an unknown party, whom and for what reasons remained to be investigated. Parker assumed that that unknown party had been her mother, Catherine Parker.

The Pretender, Alicia, was three years older than Parker, and had been handled by a woman named Kendra, whose handwriting Parker concluded the brief file was written in. She had been 12 years old when she had gone missing. To Parker's annoyance, the file included no photograph or description of the girl beyond the stating of her year of birth.

A second notice further went on to state that all files containing document of Alicia's 'work' had been lost, presumed stolen, and that the file she was reading was a provisional copy of the original.

Under the second notice was a list of 'others' Alicia had worked with, at which Parker was surprised to see the names Kyle and Alex, but not Jarod. The third and last name listed was Timmy.

Parker went back to Alex's listing which was followed by a comma, capital _t_, and an asterisk. Parker scanned through the rest of the file for another asterisk that might perhaps denote the meaning of 'T*', but there was none.

* * *

Toto lay on the double bed in Amanda's bedroom. She liked Amanda's bed. Amanda still lived with her mother and her bedroom was at the back of the house, with a glass door that looked out onto the veranda outside. Toto could hear Chelsea's canaries out on the veranda making bird noises. She watched sunlight play across the ceiling and let herself believe everything would be okay.

* * *

For a moment Alex could not think how it had happened, and then he remembered and he wasn't sure how he felt.

Did anyone know that they were gone? Alex thought about the woman beside him. What would happen when they realised? Would the police search for them? The FBI? Would the Center send a Retrieval team?

Alex peered into the inky blackness beyond the reach of the beam of the car's headlights.

Throughout their escape, Laura had not woken. Alex didn't know if she would again. The only thing he knew was that Laura was not alone any longer. She was pregnant.

Truthfully, Alex knew that the baby was probably his. It was likely the Center had not planned Laura to become pregnant. As far as he knew, he had no other children.

Alex wasn't sure how he should feel. Should he be excited? Happy? He was going to be a father, maybe. Should he be upset considering how the baby had been made? Did he want a baby? Would it be okay if he was happy? Was he happy?

If it's a boy, Alex thought, he would name him Kyle. He frowned inwardly. Maybe he didn't mind that he was going to be a father. Maybe he wasn't happy, maybe he wouldn't love the baby exactly, but maybe it would be enough to attribute value to the baby and in that way justify care for the baby's welfare.

A sign up ahead indicated a town and a bypass. Alex took the car onto the bypass.

The town was behind them for a couple of miles. A car passed going the other way. Alex blinked. In a couple of hours, he would need to take his medication. He frowned inwardly and glanced at Laura. She had also been on medication. If the medication stopped, her body would go into withdrawal.

He had to keep giving her the medication, Alex realised, at least until the baby was born. The medication would damage the baby, but withdrawal could kill it. Had the medication already damaged the baby? Alex did not know.

He didn't want to drive anymore. If he kept giving Laura the medication, she might stay asleep forever.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	64. Chapter 64

**2022**

The teenage girl standing in front of him was 15 years old and African American. A Pretender, Pam had said. She was to be Robert's new partner. Pam told him that her name was Comfort.

Robert said nothing.

Comfort smiled at him.

He didn't smile back.

* * *

Sarah laughed, swashing away a strand of fair hair that had fallen in her face. The man standing next to her, in his mid to late twenties, smiled.

Parker, who had been passing in an adjoining corridor, had paused, intending to approach Sarah, but at the sight of the man, she stopped and frowned. He reminded her of Lyle. His eyes were the same blue, and his hair a similar enough dark brown to be the same. He was dressed in a smart suit, much the same as Sarah herself.

Sarah dissolved into helpless laughter.

Breaking from her thoughts, Parker walked toward the pair.

The man saw her first. He stopped smiling and reached a hand for Sarah's arm.

Sarah glanced at him, and seeing his professional expression, ceased laughing and turned toward Parker.

"Sarah," Parker said.

Sarah smiled. "Dear Mel!" she greeted, as though she were reciting a letter to a loved one. She regarded the man shortly. "My assistant," she said curtly.

The man nodded slightly, his serious expression abruptly more disconcerted than professional.

Sarah returned her attention to Parker. "Can you believe, I was just about to phone you?" she cried dramatically.

* * *

Parker sat across from Sarah and her assistant at a table in the dining hall. In fact, it was not until they were seated in front of her that Parker noticed the Special Guest Pass each of them wore.

Parker and Sarah had gotten coffees as it was not yet lunch, though the man had had nothing. A short while later, he stood, and returned with a packet of crinkle cut chicken-flavoured potato chips from one of the numerous vending machines beside the notice board. He had, Parker noted, taken his jacket off.

Sarah glanced at him with a slight frown, but he did not look around at her. She glanced back at Parker with big eyes.

* * *

Sarah was telling Parker about Texas when a cell phone began to play Vamp By Numbers' _Caddy_.

The man turned around to retrieve his cell phone from his jacket which was hung over the back of the chair on which he was sitting, fingers grubby with oil and flavourings, and flipped open the cover. "Aster."

* * *

Parker sighed, and told Sarah that she had to go. Aster was talking on his cell phone across the room, pacing back and forth in front of the vending machines.

Sarah nodded. "If you've work, you'd best be off."

* * *

"Do you want something from one of the vending machines?" Comfort asked as Robert and she approached them on their way along the corridor. She was getting herself a Coke.

Robert didn't glance at her as he said, "No."

Comfort widened her eyes. He was cheerful! "Do you, um, like guys or something?" she asked, pausing at one of the vending machines and slotting in some coins.

Robert swung around and glared at her.

Comfort blinked in mock stupidity, and leant down to collect her can. Cheerful overload. He so was!

He walked over to her and took her arm before she could retrieve her canned drink, turning her to face him as she straightened in alarm, and pressed her against the front of the vending machine and kissed her.

After a while, he let go of her arm and stepped away from her.

Comfort stayed frozen backed against the vending machine.

"I think so," Robert concluded, before turning and walking away.

Comfort peeled herself away from the vending machine and quickly stooped to retrieve her drink, before racing up the corridor to catch up with him.

* * *

"What happened to what's-her-name? Jojo?" Comfort questioned, slightly out of breath. "Your partner before?"

Robert glanced at her sideways, pulling the door open for the both of them.

Comfort made big eyes to prompt him into reply.

"She was reassigned," he muttered.

Comfort frowned and walked through the door into the conference room. Why had the other girl been reassigned? Had it been because of Robert? Had he done something to her?

* * *

Emily cried when Jarod and Nia took Jay home from the hospital. Ethan sat with her on the sterile white bed and held her and eventually she stopped crying, but Ethan knew it was only for his benefit.

Zoe and Mo arrived twenty minutes later with a sizeable quantity of sweets, mostly strawberry-flavoured, and a strawberry milkshake for Emily.

Emily drank the milkshake and then chose a packet of strawberry gum and unwrapped several pieces and put them in her mouth at once.

Zoe hugged her and Emily held her for a long while, then she reached out and took one of Mo's hands and squeezed it.

Quietly chewing her gum some time later, she suddenly started to cry again, and Zoe rushed over and wrapped her arms around her.

Reluctantly having chosen a piece of chocolate and caramel candy, which was slowly dissolving in his mouth, Ethan frowned at the sound of Emily's voice, small and muffled.

"I want Mel," Emily murmured.

Zoe stroked her hair and hummed her favourite song, _Build Me Up Buttercup_, but Emily continued to cry.

For a long moment, it didn't even occur to Ethan that Mel could be Parker.

"Call her," Mo urged in a low voice. Ethan frowned at him strangely, until Mo whispered, "Miss Parker."

Ethan punched Parker's number into his cell and waited for her to answer, quickly explaining that Emily had had the baby and that she wanted to talk to her.

Talking to Parker seemed to calm Emily, but when Emily ended the call with "I love you", Ethan could not help but wonder if there was not a little truth behind Margaret's suspicion that her daughter liked girls, and he wasn't altogether comfortable that it was Parker whom Emily had said she loved. He glanced at Zoe briefly, but if she had heard she was unaffected.

Charles dropped in forty minutes later and was disappointed that he had missed Jarod and the baby, though he presented Emily with the daffodils he had bought for her and asked her how she was, feeling very awkward holding a large stuffed panda that had been meant for the newborn.

Emily said that she was fine and that the doctor had said that Jay was healthy. She stared at the panda for a while afterward.

Ethan thought she would start crying again, but she didn't. Instead, she stood up and put her arms around Charles briefly. Charles stayed for a few more minutes before leaving, reminding the room on the way out that Jarod and Nia were hosting a party to celebrate Jay's birth later in the evening.

Emily waited until Charles had left the room before lying down.

* * *

Lili shrieked. Nothing Alex did would stop her crying. The baby was three months old, and Laura was still sleeping. In the end, Alex had taken her to a clinic and she'd had to have an operation. The staff hadn't asked questions which was the reason Alex had chosen the clinic in the first place.

"I don't know what you want!" Alex shouted over the baby's screams.

Lili continued screaming.

Alex sat down in a corner and covered his ears with his hands.

* * *

Emily stared at Lyle, who was lying on the bed next to her, watching her watching him. She pointed a finger at her chest, then drew a love heart shape in the air with two of her fingers, then she reached out a hand and placed it on his chest.

Zoe and Mo had gone down the corridor to find the canteen, with promises to bring back coffee, and Ethan had stayed in case Emily needed him. He'd moved the seat to a better position where he could watch Emily as well as the television, on which the volume had been turned right down.

On the television, an ad break came on, and he glanced at Emily and noticed that she was no longer asleep, and waited for her to say something, but instead she stared at the wall, and started gesturing in some sort of improvised sign language. Ethan watched her hands carefully. He frowned.

Emily went back to staring at the wall, unmoving.

Ethan rose up out of the chair and slowly moved towards the bed. "Emily?"

Emily glanced at him suddenly. "Ethan," she said, and smiled.

Ethan imitated her hand movements – _I love you_ – and frowned.

Emily pushed herself up into a sitting position.

* * *

Lolly Corelli was a detective. Beside her, her partner, Kyle Harper, leant forward and pressed the button for the elevator. Lolly settled back on her heels to wait for it to arrive.

The elevator came and they stepped inside.

The moment the elevator doors opened and she stepped out into the hall, Lolly was met with the muffled sounds of a baby screaming hysterically from within one of the suites. She shot a short glance at her partner.

Five doors from the elevator, a door opened and a man stepped out into the hall carrying a screaming baby. The baby was red in the face from screaming.

"I don't think she likes the walls," the man said to Lolly.

Lolly looked at the man properly, thinking that maybe he was on drugs.

"What's her name?" Kyle asked.

"The colour," the man continued, ignoring Kyle's question. "I don't think she likes the colour of the walls."

Lolly glanced at Kyle with a frown.

The man walked away with the screaming baby.

Lolly shook her head.

* * *

Alex walked to the elevator with Lili. As he was waiting for the elevator, he hummed Miley Cyrus.

He frowned, recalling the woman he had seen when he had stepped out into the hall. Kyle had been standing next to her.

Alex patted Lili's back.

Kyle was dead. He'd been shot by Lyle, and his heart had been donated to a boy in need of a transplant. The elevator arrived.

* * *

Nia had invited some of her friends, and Jarod some of his workmates, and Margaret had come with Karl.

Emily found a seat and sat down, not intending to stand up again until it was time to leave.

Across the room, Lyle stood against the wall beside a framed watercolour painting of a tropical rainforest Emily had never been to.

Emily made a face at him, but he didn't look away, so she turned her attention to the rest of the people in the room, watching her mother and Karl for a while, until Charles arrived and handed Nia the stuffed panda that was for Jay.

"How do you feel?"

Emily frowned. Cindy was standing in front of her. She smiled. "I'm fine," she replied calmly.

Later, some music was put on, and Emily, smiling, danced with Mo.

Ethan frowned, watching from the sidelines. For a long time, Emily had been reluctant to interact with Jarod or Mo or Charles. Jarod had told Ethan that it was because of conditioning by Lyle.

* * *

Ethan was dancing with Zoe, not wanting one of Nia's friends to ask him to dance. Emily was dancing with one of Jarod's workmates who had asked her to dance.

Ethan thought about the Healer who'd come to work for Jarod's anti-Center group, Sanctuge, and had Healed Emily, Zoe and himself who, whilst breaking into a rival corporation's facility, had stumbled across a lab and found several Reapers being experimented on who had used them to harvest enough energy to escape.

It was just before he'd asked Zoe to dance, Jarod had come over and told him about the Healer and the things he'd said. He'd said that he couldn't help Nia to have a baby or Zoe to stop dying of cancer, but that it was alright for Emily to have Nia's baby because she was in very good health, and that he was sure that she'd been Healed in the past by several Healers. Ethan hadn't prolonged the conversation, he hadn't asked Jarod to talk to him, and he didn't really want to talk to Jarod.

Jarod had walked away, and Ethan had asked Zoe to dance.

From across the room, he caught sight of the Healer watching Emily with a frown.

* * *

Parker walked to the door and pulled it open.

Cherry stood out in the hall, her light and dark blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her customary scowl was missing. "Plum's crying and she won't tell me what's wrong," she said.

Parker frowned. Plum was Maybelline's nickname. But she didn't know what she could do.

"You're Lyle's twin!" Cherry whined, and almost reached across for Parker's hand before deciding better of it.

Parker nodded and stepped out of her office, turning to pull the door shut. Obviously Cherry hadn't accept that Paulie was her twin and not Lyle, and Parker couldn't be bothered telling her if she wasn't going to listen. "I'll try to talk to her," she said to Cherry, who was staring at the floor, her small dark blue eyes with their black eyeliner narrowed.

Cherry sniffed.

They found Plum in the toilets on SL-8, Med Space General, standing in front of the mirror and staring into it, but no longer crying.

Parker stared at her too, trying to see some likeness in her with Lyle, but she looked very much like her mother.

Cherry rushed over to her and tried to hug her, but Plum stepped back from her sharply and stared at Parker.

"How can you think I'd want to see_ her_?" she screamed, tears appearing in her brown eyes.

"If you won't tell me what's wrong, at least tell her!" Cherry yelled back at her.

Plum laughed as though she thought Cherry was ridiculous. She fell on the floor and laughed and laughed and laughed, tears pouring down her face.

Cherry's lip shook and her eyes filled with tears.

Parker suppressed a sigh. Cherry was only trying to help, she supposed, as much as the whole situation annoyed her and made her uncomfortable. She walked up to Plum and knelt down in front of her. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong, Maybelline?"

Plum made a gagging sound and leant forward, trying to make herself as small as possible.

Parker put a hand on her arm. She didn't know what Plum believed, if she thought Lyle and she had been twins or not, and if she was her aunty or not, or if she blamed her for taking her father/lover away from her, but she pushed all of those thoughts away and just thought about the person sitting in front of her, sobbing.

The sound of crying paused as Plum sucked in a breath. Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. "Jimmy's my father." She sucked in another breath. "She said…"

Parker felt her heart stop. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. And then she said: "My father killed my mother." Afterwards, she didn't know why she'd said it, but then she couldn't take it back.

Plum laughed. "Did she love him?" she asked as though she were a gossipy teenager, sitting up and watching Parker eagerly for her reply.

"She hated him," Parker told her. She didn't include that the man she had thought was her father actually hadn't been, or that she had been made by invitro fertilisation, or that her mother and 'father' hadn't been married.

Plum smiled. Then she started to laugh irrationally.

Parker frowned. She didn't know why Ignacia had decided to tell Plum this now, but she was angry that she had. The person she had thought was her father for more than 40 years had killed her real father.

Plum jumped to her feet and dashed over and threw her arms around Cherry.

Cherry hugged her back.

"Isn't it great?" Plum enthused. "I'm an only child and you're an only child." Then she started to cry again, her tears running onto Cherry's uniform.

Parker wished that she could have hugged her own best friend, but she was dead, she had been for a long time, so Parker pushed the thought away.

* * *

Ethan kissed Zoe, and just like in the movies, they fell back on the bed.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	65. Chapter 65

Parker frowned, thinking about what Ignacia had told Plum, and started to wonder if she had only done so because she hadn't wanted to accept the fact that her daughter's children were also her half siblings owing to the fact that they shared the same father. Even if Plum hadn't known that Lyle was her father, Parker reflected, she was sure Ignacia would have figured it out had she been shown a photograph.

Maybe, to Plum, Lyle had only ever been her lover and the father of her children. Maybe she hadn't known he was her father. And maybe she had been upset that her father, whom she had thought was dead, and then had found out had not died, but had killed his best friend, was actually not her father, and had actually killed her real father. Or maybe she had known, and maybe she had been upset for the same reason.

She thought about Plum telling Cherry she was an only child again. Surely she had to have known that Lyle was her father then, because what other children could Bobby have had if he was supposed to have been dead, and surely she must have thought that Reagan was her brother, or maybe even she realised that if Lyle was her father, then her own children were her siblings.

Or she mightn't have thought that at all. Maybe, when she had found out that Bobby really wasn't dead, she had supposed that she could have other siblings out there. Parker frowned. Did Ignacia have other children?

Parker stood up from her desk. She would invite Plum out for lunch, she decided, and try to get her talking.

* * *

Plum was working with a patient when Parker found her, but she agreed to come to lunch.

Parker rung Paulie on her cell phone and told her that she wouldn't be having lunch in the dining hall, and then sat down at her desk to do some paperwork.

An hour later, she got up to get herself a coffee from one of the coffee machines, though she did not resume her paperwork, and instead looked through one of Lyle's notebooks she had recently found amongst his things.

The notebook had been filled up by cartoon drawings centring around two characters, both with extremely odd names, a young woman named Miss Tree and a doctor named Thierry Hospital, and occasionally featuring a young man codenamed Rise, who was a patient of Dr. Hospital, and in flashback, a mysterious girl known as LaCrosse, who was – so far as Parker had read – the only living person to know Miss Tree's first name.

Parker supposed Miss Tree was somewhat of a badly researched take on herself, and Dr. Hospital of Sydney. She was able to speculate that Rise referred to Jarod, though she was not sure whom LaCrosse was meant in reference to, and how she had come to know Miss Tree's first name.

* * *

"You must have been close," Parker said.

Plum glanced at her from the other side of the table adorned with a white table cloth.

"Lyle…" Parker explained.

Plum laughed as though Parker had said something amusing.

"He's your children's father," Parker said pointedly.

Plum tossed her head.

Parker frowned.

"He started that rumour," Plum told her. "If someone asked, I told them it wasn't any of their business."

"It's not true?" Parker asked.

"No, it's not true."

"You're not just saying that because I know he was your father?" Parker said.

Plum half laughed, half choked. "He was not my father! And he is not my kids' father," she replied clearly. She shook her head. "How would he have been my father?"

"He wasn't always Lyle," Parker told her. "Before he was Lyle, he was Bobby."

Plum dissolved into laughter, her brown eyes widening.

Parker remained serious.

Plum stopped laughing. "So, yeah, maybe I knew, but I'm not lying. We weren't…" She made a funny face. "Like that."

"Do you know why he wanted people to think he was your children's father?" Parker asked.

Plum frowned. "No. I don't know, maybe he thought it would be," she imitated a British accent, "very impressive, 007." She laughed stupidly.

Parker watched her without comment.

Plum shrugged. "Everyone believed it," she told her, and frowned.

"You want people to think that Lyle is your children's father?" Parker proposed.

Plum tossed her head again, her expression troubled.

Parker frowned.

"He was an idiot sometimes," Plum said suddenly, "but he wasn't… not all those things you make out he was."

"Did you love him?" Parker asked.

Plum stared straight into her eyes. "I love him."

"Why?"

"It's my choice."

Parker nodded.

Plum lowered her eyes to the middle of the table. "When they were all running away, I should have…" She blinked and raised her face and stared at a point on the ceiling. "I shouldn't have."

"Who was running away?" Parker asked.

Plum shook her head.

Though she didn't say it, Parker understood that Plum considered her to be one of the 'they' who had run away, that they had both run away.

Plum sniffed.

Madeline hadn't run away, Parker reflected, and look what good it had done her.

"I think it was Sydney who hurt the most," Plum said suddenly.

Parker frowned. "How's that?"

Plum made a face. She turned to look at the waitress bringing their meals to their table, and told her that she'd have a glass of red wine.

The waitress set their meals down.

Parker sighed and said she would have a caramel coffee.

The waitress hurried away.

Plum laughed.

* * *

Sydney smiled.

Parker had met him in the underground parking and told him what Plum had told her over lunch. The way he was smiling, Parker thought he might laugh.

He didn't laugh, and instead nodded to the notebook lying on the seat inside the car.

Parker leant across, picked it up and handed it to him. She explained who she thought the characters represented, though she didn't know who LaCrosse was meant to represent.

Sydney frowned, occasionally turning a page.

Parker switched the radio on and switched through several stations until she found Bay FM and sat back in her seat to listen to the news.

Sydney glanced at her with a frown.

"You have it!" Parker joked.

"Perhaps," Sydney replied.

Parker glanced at the cartoon girl. The cartoons were drawn without colour, but on every page, a colour was added to one item. On this page, her eyes were coloured green. "She's Emily."

Sydney nodded, turning several more pages.

Parker frowned.

* * *

It made Plum falter. A song from the top of the current charts was playing in the background. Plum found herself holding her breath, as though just by his looking at her he could steal her soul away. Her legs felt suddenly weak.

Lyle didn't come any closer, but watched her from where he stood.

Plum wanted to jump up and down, scream at him, make a complete fool of herself, anything to make him stop looking at her like that.

He smiled, then, and turned and walked away.

Plum made her way through the crowd. She didn't know what she would say to him when she caught him up, she only knew she couldn't let him walk away.

He wasn't smiling and he wasn't frowning.

Plum stared at him, unable to find the words to even yell at him.

Lyle laughed suddenly, hands in his pockets, shook his head, dropped his gaze to the floor.

Plum stared at the floor too.

He reached out a hand as though to touch one of her hands, then thought better of it.

Plum looked up at him.

For a long moment, they stood perfectly still, with only the sounds from the other room to disrupt the stillness. Then Lyle stepped forward, touched her shoulder awkwardly.

Plum stared at him with wide eyes.

"You're missing the party," he said.

Plum tried to say something, but the words wouldn't come out.

His hand left her shoulder and was returned to a pocket.

Even though Plum didn't want to, she couldn't stop herself, so she turned away and walked back to the party.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	66. Chapter 66

The hospital didn't know how it had happened, but Harmony was missing. Ethan, Zoe and Emily travelled to the hospital to talk with the staff about involving the police. Emily fell asleep on the train on the way over, and Zoe read a novel about a detective.

When they arrived at the hospital, they were instructed at reception to go to one of the meeting rooms. They had just walked into the meeting room when Emily said she needed a drink, and Ethan went with her.

Ethan was about to say something when they passed a vending machine selling bottled and canned drinks, except Emily probably wanted a coffee, he supposed.

Reaching the canteen, Emily did not make her way over to the counter, but instead glanced around the room at all of the tables, and then walked off in the direction of the refrigerators stocked with drinks.

Ethan hurried after her. Maybe she wanted a strawberry-flavoured milk?

Emily stopped before she got to the refrigerators, in front of a table at which a teenage girl in a hospital gown was sitting, though the girl didn't seem to notice her, staring at the table blankly.

Ethan stared at Emily in annoyance.

"Hello, Harmony," Emily said gently.

Ethan frowned, and then stared at the girl, who had looked up at Emily.

"Emily?"

Emily smiled. "That's right. It's Emily."

The girl glanced at Ethan. Ethan looked at Emily.

* * *

"None of this makes sense," Ethan said in a low voice, glancing at Emily with a frown.

Emily did not reply.

They were standing in a queue at KFC, waiting for their orders to be taken; Zoe sitting at a table with the girl, who was now wearing Emily's red cardigan over her hospital gown.

"That isn't Harmony!" Ethan growled.

Emily glanced at him, crossing her arms as though she was cold. "That is not a that, she is Harmony," she said stiffly.

Ethan shook his head. Harmony was gone, probably dead, Ethan thought. He'd seen photographs and video recordings of a younger Parker. The resemblance between Parker and New Harmony meant only one thing, she was another clone and a Center operative.

Emily stared straight ahead, arms crossed, her expression firm.

Ethan turned away from her and walked to the table where Zoe and New Harmony were sitting. As he approached the table, he took in the 18-year-old's blank stare, the same stare she had had in the hospital canteen.

Harmony broke from her trance and glanced at him as he drew near the table. She did not smile, she merely watched him, before eventually glancing away again.

Emily returned, their lunch crowded onto a single red plastic tray.

* * *

Bobby laughed and dropped his head onto the table.

Ignacia patted him on the back, trying hard not to laugh herself.

Jimmy shot them reproving looks. He didn't see anything funny about wanting to become a lawyer. He turned away from the table and walked out of the room.

Ignacia leant her head on Bobby's back and laughed.

* * *

Lyle slid down the wall, tears springing to his eyes. Jimmy was gone, and this time he wouldn't be coming back.

Thomas stood against the wall opposite and wished he knew what to say, wished he were someone else, someone who would know exactly the right thing to say.

* * *

_Parker ran to catch the boy up. "What are you doing?" she demanded._

_The boy ignored her._

"_You can't take that thing!" she told him sternly._

"_Why?" he said._

"_It's not yours!"_

"_It's not yours either."_

_Parker growled, hating her stupid little sailor uniform. "Put it back," she urged. She was sure to be dead if her boss found out._

"_How would you like to be kept in a glass thingy?"_

_Parker planted her hands on her hips. "People pay a lot of money to eat that! Are you going to pay for it?"_

_The boy pelted._

"_Come back here right now!" Parker yelled. She took chase._

_The boy had stopped by the boardwalk. Parker gasped, coming up beside him. He bit his lip. "That was an accident," he said._

"_Get it back out!" Parker shouted, fed up, and pushed him forward. A perfectly good lobster!_

_She was dead, no – beyond dead – she was fired._

"_You idiot!" she said, because apparently no one had taught him to swim and he was really freaking out. She knelt down on the boardwalk, her knees hurting already. "Stop freaking out and give me your hands! HANDS!" she shouted._

* * *

_Parker stood with her arms crossed. "What is your problem?" she finally said._

"_You said they were going to eat her. I couldn't let them eat my grandmother."_

_Parker stopped breathing. Seriously, he didn't just say-? She burst into laughter._

"_It's not funny," he said._

_Parker couldn't stop laughing. He was wrong, because it was funny._

_The boy stomped off, dripping wet._

"_Hey!" Parker caught him up. "You're wet. You can't go in there." She took his arm, on sudden inspiration._

_From here they could see into the restaurant._

_She winced. "Oh shit, there goes gramps." She shrugged. "We could say a prayer," she suggested._

_The boy glared at her._

_She tugged on his arm. "It doesn't hurt," she said._

_She showed him into the kitchen the back way, back door._

_She waved. "Bye-bye, gramps."_

_Plomp, into the pot the lobster went._

"_Oi!" She grabbed the boy and held him fast. He wasn't going anywhere. "Gramps is gone."_

_She watched the pot briefly._

"_Eww," she said, and stepped back from the wet boy. Perfect, she thought. She stomped off through the kitchen. She needed to find a sweater._

_When she returned from her locker she found the boy by the window. Inside! She hurried over, shushing him toward the door._

"_Out!"_

* * *

"_You need he-" she was saying as she escorted him to the parking lot via the boardwalk. She screamed and jumped back from him. "Eww! That is too gross!" Actually, she was starting to feel sick. "Just so you know," she said, "that one wasn't for eating. It was for decoration."_

_The boy shrugged, dropped the fish into the water._

_Officially, she was never putting a live fish in her mouth._

_He sat down by the edge of the boardwalk and kicked his legs above the water._

"_You're mad! You know that right?" she said, smoothing the back of her skirt with her hands. She sat down beside him._

"_We can't go home," he finally said, watching all of that water. "It's funny because you have it to," he looked across at her briefly. "War."_

_Parker made a face. "Mad!" she muttered._

"_We had to assimilate when we came to earth. Grandmother wasn't with me. The ship she was on crashed into the sea. No humans to assimilate out there. We couldn't survive for very long in our original forms, that was why it was imperative we assimilated."_

_Parker frowned incredulously. "Then why'd you let her go if she's your grandma?"_

"_We can't change her back. We don't even know if she knows what or who she was. She'll be happier out there."_

"_So what are you, like," she said, "an alien?" She got to her feet. Shook her head. If he had been attempting to chat her up, it wasn't working, she thought. "I don't date non-humans," she said. She strode off back toward the restaurant._

_He ran and got in her way. "I do have something to buy," he said._

_Parker placed her hands on her hips. "Yeah," she said, "and what's that, lobster boy?"_

_He dug some coins out of his pocket and handed them over. "It says so right there, see," he said, nodding to a board mounted to the wall outside._

_PHOTGRAPHS TAKEN, it read. WHISKERS BLAKE – FRESH SEAFOOD – FAMILY RESTAURANT. DON'T JUST TELL YOUR FRIENDS ABOUT US – HAVE YOUR PHOTGRAPH TAKEN WITH ONE OF OUR FRIENDLY STAFF!_

_Parker moaned. She hated her job! She fixed a false smile to her face. "So it does," she said with a sneer. "One moment please," she said. Arriving at the counter, she mimicked sticking her finger down her throat as if to say: Yuck! She quickly handed the coins to her co-worker. "Can you take a picture?" she asked the older girl. "I really need to get rid of this guy. I think he might be a lunatic."_

_The girl nodded._

* * *

_God that boy had been a basket case!_ Parker thought with a mental shiver, resisting the urge to laugh, and took the menu offered. Whiskers Blake had gone up-market in a big way. Still, they'd dropped the theme tune and the Polaroids. They now had two bars, three large dining lounges, several coffee lounges with televisions, a gambling lounge, dining overlooking the bay, very nice bathrooms, and an extensive collection of fish and other marine fauna in aquariums.

Ethan had called last night, and she had agreed to meet him at the restaurant for lunch, though she did not feel in the least bit comfortable with Ethan being in Blue Cove.

Placing her menu down, she tried not to worry about Ethan's lateness. Her Voices had not informed her that he was in any danger, so she had to assume that he was fine.

Her thoughts returned to 1977, the year she had taken a job at Whiskers Blake over the vacation as work experience. She had a feeling she had met lobster boy again. She tried to remember if she had asked his name. Her own name, ANGEL – the boss hadn't liked Parker – clearly displayed on a nametag pinned to a lapel of her blue, white and red uniform.

She smiled suddenly, remembering how, two years later, she'd told her best friend, Mimi, how she'd once met an alien. The twelve-year-old had laughed so much, and then she'd asked if he was cute, which had made Parker laugh.

Parker sipped her scotch and Coke. If anyone else had told her he was an alien on a mission to save his grandparents – obviously in an attempt to chat her up – after he had stolen her workplace property, not once, but twice, not to mention totally freaking out when she pushed him and he fell in the water, and then, as if he thought her having to save him hadn't done enough to endear him to her, and his support for animal liberation hadn't worked as well as he had hoped, had lectured her on his anti-war sentiments, she was sure she would have done more than inform him that she did not date nonhumans and recommend he was a lunatic.

She frowned. She'd always wanted to meet him again to ask him what planet he was from. Once or twice, she'd even wondered how he was.

The elevator doors were closing – Parker wished they would close faster – and then Lyle looked at her as though to say they were finally even, and then the doors had closed, and she couldn't see him anymore.

Parker shook her head, blinking back tears, and then she pushed herself to her feet. "You had me shot!" she shouted. "In the back! We are not even!"

"Sister?"

Parker spun around.

Ethan was frowning, Emily looking scared.

"Sit down," she said.

Ethan took a seat across the table. Emily sat down in a chair next to his.

Parker handed Ethan the second menu she had requested and looked at Emily who was wearing a Popeye the Sailor tee shirt.

"Are you alright?" Emily asked her.

"Fine," Parker replied.

Emily smiled, then she grinned. "Did you see all the fish?" she cried with childlike delight.

Ethan glanced at her shortly. "What about Flipper?" he asked blandly.

Emily laughed, placing a hand over her mouth.

Ethan shook his head and returned his attention to the menu. After a moment, he handed the menu to Emily, who smiled at him.

Ethan frowned, mock unimpressed.

Parker ordered a surf 'n' turf steak, Ethan had the same, and Emily said she would have the fancy McFish burger, at which Ethan shot her a look and she pretended to look apologetic.

Ethan looked away from her, annoyed, and glared at a large fish swimming in an aquarium.

Emily looked around her interestedly.

Parker glanced at her, remembering that in Lyle's cartoon, Emily had known her real first name, the name she had all but forgotten until Ignacia had reminded her. She could not remember having being called Melody as a child, though she remembered that she'd called herself Melody during her time at boarding school in Canada.

Emily began to hum.

It was a moment before Parker recognised the song she was humming as the Whiskers Blake theme tune. "Ethan, why is Emily here?"

Ethan glanced around at her, and frowned. "I don't know," he answered unconcernedly. "She just followed me here. She won't leave me alone. I didn't ask her to come."

"I'm stalking him," Emily admitted conversationally.

Parker frowned, disconcerted and uncomfortable with Emily's behaviour around Ethan. She was sure Ethan, himself, had noticed something wasn't altogether right also. "Emily," she said levelly, "Ethan isn't Lyle."

Emily frowned suddenly. "What? I know that."

Ethan stared at Parker.

Parker stared right back at him.

Ethan laughed. "You think Emily has designs on me? Emily likes women, Parker. If she has designs on anyone, it's you."

Parker looked at Emily, who had gone red in the face, her eyes shiny.

Emily stood up from her chair quickly and stalked away.

Ethan glanced at Parker, then at Emily. He got to his feet quickly. "Emily?"

Emily did not stop or turn around.

Ethan shook his head, and sat back down again.

It was time to tell him about Lyle and Emily and the Canadian eugenics facility, Parker decided.

* * *

Ethan laughed harshly.

Emily was sitting at a table on the deck looking out onto the ocean, strawberry ice cream cone in hand.

Ethan walked straight up to her and took her arms in his hands. "You want to tell me the same bullshit you told Parker!" he yelled. "Hmm? He didn't hurt you! He damn well hurt you! Don't you dare dare fucking tell me otherwise! And lying is only going to hurt you and everyone else around you! STOP LYING!"

Emily stared at him, but wouldn't speak, not even to tell him to stop shouting at her.

"What did he do to you, Emily? What did he do to you that you can't stand your own family! No more lies, Emily."

Emily remained silent.

Ethan shook her. "WHAT DID LYLE DO?"

"Fine!" Emily screamed. "He beat me, and raped me, and screamed at me, and abused me! He wouldn't stop! Not even when I was pregnant! Not even in front of our baby! It was my fault, he said! He just wouldn't stop. STOP SCREAMING AT ME!"

Ethan let go of Emily.

Her face was red, cheeks glistening with tears at being accused of liking women, her eyes large. She was breathing too hard. She looked mad.

"I've stopped," Ethan breathed, barely above a whisper, and Emily fell on the deck and tried to breathe. Ethan knelt down in front of her and touched her arms. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Parker stood back and stared at them as though in shock.

"I'm sorry!" Ethan repeated, and held Emily close to him. "I'm so so so sorry sorry sorry!"

Emily started to cry.

* * *

Parker collapsed in her seat behind her desk and sobbed. Oh, she hated Lyle so much, but she hated him most of all because of everyone else who hated him and loved him, because he didn't deserved to be loved, if only in memory, and he deserved to have to pay for everything he had ever done to make someone hate him, all of the hurt and pain and lies and death he had caused.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	67. Chapter 67

Lying in bed at night, Parker explained what had happened over lunch, to Sydney over the telephone. She smiled when Sydney told her a children's bedtime story in Dutch, and it didn't matter at all that she didn't know what the words meant.

* * *

The teenage girl walked out of the room.

Across the corridor, the young man stepped away from the wall. "Hello."

The girl stared at him. "Hello." When she spoke, she spoke with a voice that might be expected of a much younger girl. Her red hair had been cut short, though it had been done very badly, so that the hair that remained was uneven.

The young man smiled. Not a big smile, but still a smile. "I'm Lyle," he told the girl evenly.

The girl smiled too. "I'm Lin."

* * *

Lin walked into the kitchen and looked at the table, looked at all the food, wondered where he'd gotten it from.

"I'm sorry."

Lin walked over to Lyle. "That's not what you're supposed to say," she said. "You're supposed to say Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas," he said.

Lin smiled.

* * *

Tears poured down Persephone's face. Curled up in a corner, she wasn't even sure Angelo was still breathing. She wanted to go to him, wanted to let herself believe that it was just her and Angelo, wanted to hold him and tell him everything would be okay, and have him hold her back, wanted to believe that everything would be okay. She was so mad that Angelo had to see this.

Strapped to the bed, Lyle had not stopped yelling and struggling.

Angelo had had to help her drag him into the elevator, kicking and screaming as though he was a savage animal, to take him down to SL-27.

After the explosion, SL-27 had become unsafe, and Persephone wondered if Lyle's shouting would bring the whole thing down on their heads and kill them.

Persephone wanted to put her hands up and cover her ears, didn't want to hear another word of the horrible, terrible things Lyle was screaming: things about the past, things about the present, things about the future, things about herself. She wanted to cover her ears and yell right back at him to stop yelling.

Shaking, she stepped up close to Lyle, her tears wetting her lips and running into her mouth when she spoke. "Listen to me," she sobbed. "He's gone. You have to let him go too."

Lyle laughed, and then he started to scream and scream and scream.

Persephone pressed her hands over her ears and screamed too. Slowly, she bent over and snatched the pillow she had tossed to the floor.

She straightened, shaking all over, and lifted the pillow up to her chest. She leant down and kissed Lyle, her tears pouring onto his cheeks, then she put the pillow over his face and held it there until he stopped struggling.

The silence was almost too much for her to take, but she forced herself to time six minutes, then she set about resuscitating Lyle.

From the corner, she could hear Angelo sobbing.

Lyle stared at the ceiling as though he was seeing something else. He made no sound as Persephone stitched up the incision in his chest, and she was amazed at how steady her hands were. When she had finished, she glanced at Lyle, and brushed the tear away from his eye, and deep down inside, she didn't believe he would ever forgive her. "All done," she reported in an absurdly cheerful voice.

Lyle started to cry, struggling again.

Persephone sunk to the floor and sobbed soundlessly. "I know you don't like it," she told him understandingly. "You don't like not being able to move, but you have to be still now. If you aren't, you'll pull the stitches and you'll start bleeding again. You could bleed to death. I think I'm going to stay down here for a while. I'll just stay here on the floor."

Angelo stood up and moved across the room until he came to the bed.

Lyle stared at him unblinkingly.

* * *

Persephone stared at the pot of white tulips sitting in front of her office door. Knew who they were from, who'd get her flowers in a pot. Didn't want to, but had to.

Dropped them in the trash, dumpster in the undercover parking, turned and walked away.

It wasn't okay anymore. It was time to grow up. Saying sorry and buying something nice was for children. She wasn't a child, and neither was he. Kyle was dead. No more coming back. Like Jimmy, like all of those Asian girls, and God knows who else. She was too old to play along with his silly games, too old to let him think it was okay. It had never been okay.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	68. Chapter 68

Sam looked at all the paper origami flowers Midori kept in her tiny office. A long time ago, Lyle had made them for her. He wondered why she had kept them at all, but inside he knew they'd had a strange sort of friendship he had never really understood.

Midori smiled at him now, wearing a nametag that told everyone that her name was MAURA, courtesy, Sam knew, of the Chairman's secretary, Chloe, whom Midori had disagreed with, and who had then changed the name written on her form for her new nametag, required to be worn by the company. Midori had told him that she would just pay for a new nametag and wait for that to arrive rather than file a complaint. It wasn't worth it, and really – what proof did she have?

Midori saw how he was looking at the paper flowers and her smile disappeared, and her eyes began to tear up, but Sam put his arms around her and held her close, but all Midori could think about was how Lyle had never told her how he'd killed all of those Asian girls, how he'd hugged her or said something to make her smile or laugh, how he'd never tried to scare her or upset her, and how once, at her birthday party, at the door, he'd taken her hand and kissed her palm, because he didn't want to have to speak and upset her because he'd had too much wine and he wasn't talking so good. She'd laughed so much, then Sam had hugged her and said goodnight, and she'd still been laughing when she'd shut the door.

She hugged Sam back, never wanted to let him go, wanted to tell him how much she loved him, how much she'd always loved him, how awfully jealous she'd always felt of Lyle, how mad she'd gotten at Lyle sometimes, knew she wouldn't because actions spoke louder than words. It was her turn to look after Sam now.

* * *

_Dear dear diary,_ Toto wrote in her Pixel Chic diary with the miniature padlock. _I hope hope hope I die in my sleep._

Toto's grade, along with the same grade from Addison High School, had gone on a school trip to Virginia as a special treat for their first year of high school. Toto had been sick on the aeroplane. They arrived in Virginia at dinnertime, had dinner, got settled at their boarding house, and went out to see a movie at the cinema.

Everyone knew what had happened to Toto's mother and who her father was, and those who hadn't known had been told by those that did know, so now everyone knew what Toto's father had done to her mother, and everyone knew that it was because he was Bobby's son, and Toto was Bobby's granddaughter.

Toto had known that a film company had made a movie about Jimmy and Bobby, but she hadn't known what it was called, and she hadn't thought the teachers and parents who had come along on the trip would allow them to choose a horror movie, but that was exactly the movie they saw.

So now Toto was hiding in a cubicle in the toilets because some kids from AHS had been throwing popcorn at her and then when she'd gotten up to complain a girl had tipped her Coke on her. The teacher had told the other girl to be more careful in future and Toto had gone to the toilets to try and clean up.

Toto waited outside the cinema doors until the movie was over, and when the teacher came out with the rest of the kids, she said she'd just came out of the toilet.

* * *

Toto had to sleep in a room with three girls from AHS, and two girls from her own grade at Misery P-12. The three girls from Addison sat at the same bed and talked in whispers, joined a little while later by the two other girls from Toto's grade. One of the girls from Addison had been the girl who had thrown her Coke on her.

Toto lay down in bed and turned up the volume on her MP3 player and sorted through the songs by her favourite bands – Two Lips, Emoti Con, Gummi Bearz Liv, My Bad, and Vamp By Numbers – until she came to _Taken_ by 10,000 A.D. and shut her eyes and pretended she didn't care that the other girls were probably talking about her.

* * *

The next two days were taken up by a visit to a gallery and an hour long bus tour on the first day, and a trip to an indoor laser centre as the activity before bedtime, and a war memorial, a botanical garden, and zoo on the second day, and a historical sound and light show at night.

The third and second last day, they spent the morning trudging around a quarry, and after lunch were given time off at an indoor fitness centre. They would be leaving for home in the morning.

Toto stood in front of the clothes store, wearing a white tee shirt patterned with pink bunny rabbits each holding a bloody knife, black jeans, black boots and a yellow Mr. Happy pin that had been a prize for a school read-a-thon (the people who'd sent the prizes to her school had thought she was a boy, like the little dog from _The Wizard Of Oz_ with the same name).

She stared at a sequined dress in the window and remembered the boy who had kept looking at her at the war memorial and wondered if he would have believed her if she had told him she was 17. She was only 12, but she already had a proper figure and more bust than her mother had had at 17. She knew what the boy had been looking at, and she knew what he had wanted to do with it.

Toto had big black eyes, long black eyelashes, and black hair. Her mother had black hair and black eyes too, but Toto's big eyes and lashes and tan came from her father.

She was supposed to be at the fitness centre for two and a half hours, but she had overheard some boys saying that she was a Devil-worshipper and probably killed mice and lizards and snakes and drank their blood, and she had run away.

Toto turned away and walked in the direction of a candy store with a brightly-painted sign showing several different animals in Victorian costume holding or eating a collection of confectionary. It was a little bit creepy, otherworldly, like the drawings in fairy tales, and it scared her a little bit, all of that bright colour, like the witch's house in _Hansel and Gretel_, but it was exciting too – What's going to be inside? Candy perhaps? Monsters even? – and she had to keep walking, had to see what was inside. She liked candy.

Toto walked around the front of the store for a while, looking at different things, until she spotted what she thought were gum drops – she'd never had gum drops before – and ran across the room to see and straight into someone coming out of a side door marked Gingerbread Display.

"I'm terribly sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," a man's voice said. The man she had run into was looking at her.

Toto wanted to run away, instead she forced herself to look at the man. He wasn't young. He was probably in his early eighties, his hair was grey, and he had grey-blue eyes and old people's skin.

"I'm rambling. Are you hurt?" the old man asked, still looking at her. He was wearing an expensive grey suit.

Toto shook her head quickly.

The old man nodded shortly.

* * *

Toto folded and hid the sequined dress at the bottom of her sports bag, along with the gum drops. She walked to the pool barefooted, the floor cool beneath her feet, and remembered how the man had breathed, remembered how she'd breathed, how she'd whispered "Hurt me", and how, right before she'd left, he'd handed her his wallet, let her take as much money as she'd liked.

She held her breath underwater and counted how long she could go without resurfacing. Through the water, the world sounded strange, muted. She remembered that the old man hadn't had any cards in his wallet, not even a Driver's License or credit card, remembered the expensive watch he'd worn.

She wondered how old the old man had thought she was, wondered if he'd even cared, wondered what his name was, if he had wondered what hers was.

* * *

In the morning, Toto and the rest of the group had breakfast and went to the airport, and when they got back to Nebraska, they took a bus home. The bus stopped in Addison first, and then in Misery. They arrived at the school right on home-time, and Amanda was waiting to pick Toto up and take her back to her grandparents' house, where her mom was staying for now after everything that had happened with the police and the FBI and Agent Cross and the bad man who had hurt her.

Toto said nothing and Amanda stopped talking. She stopped at Cutter's on the way to Toto's grandparents' and they had soft drinks. Chelsea worked at Cutter's, and she smiled at them both when they came in.

* * *

Toto kicked the tin can ahead of her, wind blowing dust up off the road and into her face. Callie was in Addison for one of her scheduled sessions with her psychologist. Toto hummed _Taken_ as she walked. She knew she shouldn't, she'd been told never to go there, but she was bored and she hated her life and she wanted her daddy back home – but like that was going to happen.

Toto stopped and stared at the house that had once belonged to Bobby's parents, her great grandparents, if it was true what everyone said, that Bobby was her daddy's father, though she was almost certain it was, her daddy looked almost exactly like Bobby except for his tan, which she supposed must have come from his mother. She'd asked her father, Lyle, about his mother, her grandmother, once, and he'd told her that his mother was an angel who had fallen from Heaven.

Toto knew that her grandmother wasn't an angel – angels weren't real – but she didn't say anything because her daddy had been having one of his episodes, and she hadn't wanted anything bad to happen like the time his eyes had changed from blue, which they were normally, to brown. She had been really scared when that had happened, and then her daddy had had one of his fits. Later he had apologised for scaring her and had explained that he had something called epilepsy, but Toto hadn't thought it was that at all.

The house was big and white, double storey, with two sides of it looking toward the town, and two sides looking toward farmland. Toto stepped off the road and walked toward the peeling white picket fence, fallen down in parts and falling down in others. She walked up the white gravel path, the gravel almost all gone now, spread over the yard or disappeared in the dirt over-ridden by weeds whose seeds had blown over the fence from the crops. She stopped in front of the door and stared at the greening metal '19' affixed there, then she turned the door handle and stepped inside. After all this time, she hadn't expected the door to have still been locked, and it hadn't been.

She wasn't sure if she had been expecting something else, but it was just a house, an old, old house that hadn't seen inhabitants for so long. Blood didn't run down the walls, wolves didn't howl, day didn't turn to night. Still, Toto supposed it would have been cool if something like that had happened.

"What happened to your wings?"

Toto spun about.

Bobby frowned at her.

"I don't have wings," Toto told him slowly.

Bobby giggled.

Toto stared at him.

Bobby put a finger to his lips. "Shhh." He walked up to her and stopped right in front of her.

Toto hardly breathed.

Bobby screamed.

Toto turned and ran. She almost fell down the staircase in her haste. Behind her, Bobby was still screaming. She ran to the door and out of the house, but she slipped and skipped a step coming off the veranda and landed in the dirt and weeds. The house was suddenly silent.

"You should have kept them," a voice said from above her. "I would have."

Toto jumped to her feet and shot away from Bobby.

Bobby smiled.

Toto ran past him and out of the yard, ran down the road and didn't stop until she had reached the start of the road and stepped onto the street adjoining, and only then did she turn back and look at the house.

* * *

"Miss Howl!"

Toto sat up quickly.

The teacher shook her head. It was not okay to fall asleep in class.

At the end of Geography class, the teacher asked her to stay back, then walked her to the principal's office where the school nurse was also waiting.

* * *

"Marry me."

Midori stared at him.

"Marry me," Sam repeated.

Midori put a hand over her mouth. Then she shook her head.

Sam shook his head too. "Why not?"

"There's something I haven't told you," Midori said quietly.

Sam took her face in his hands, made her look at him. "I don't care. Mar-"

Midori put a hand up and covered his mouth. "Your father was mentoring me."

Sam stared at her.

Midori sucked her lip, tears appearing in her eyes. "He thought I was... something he called a Healer." She sniffed. "I didn't believe him."

Sam shook his head.

"I wasn't the only one, Sam. There was one other."

Sam shook his head again. "Why did you think... why did you think he said that?"

Midori frowned, black eyes glistening. "I thought he-" She sucked in a breath. "I thought he wanted to… I thought he wanted me..." She shook her head and didn't go on.

Sam didn't take his eyes from her own. "Who was the other person?"

Midori sniffed. "I don't... I can't..."

"Was it Frankie?"

Midori nodded silently, tears sliding down her face. "I'm so sorry!" she cried.

"No! No!" Sam pulled her into his arms.

Midori started to cry.

"Marry me," Sam said.

Midori wiped at her face, and nodded.

Sam smiled and kissed her head. "Do you believe that Frankie is a Healer?" he asked in a whisper.

Midori sniffed. Finally, she nodded. "I saw him- I saw him do something," she said, voice breaking.

Sam hugged her tighter.

"I could never do those things!" Midori sobbed. "I could never do anything!"

Sam kissed her head again. "What did Raines say?" he asked in hardly more than a whisper.

"He said my abilities were dormant."

Sam sniffed and nodded. "Then I believe him," he whispered.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	69. Chapter 69

Collier and Aletta's baby was named Mario. From the second week of his life, it was decided and he was assigned to a program. With hope, he would be a Pretender like his mother and father.

Mario was taken to see a Tower Empath who stated his opinion that the infant would be a Pretender as inconclusive. After this, he was taken to see Reagan, who confirmed that he was a Pretender. As a Class Five, Reagan was a class higher than the Class Four Tower Empath.

In the case of Empathy, as far as Parker's awareness of the topic extended, there were seven classes which an Empath could be described as being, not including various specialities some, but not all, Empaths exhibited. Though individuals possessing the Inner Sense, Reapers, and Healers were not described in terms of class, there were, nonetheless, rungs or levels by which their of abilities or capabilities could be rated. Pretenders were assessed using specialised intelligence scaling, the latest of which Sydney had informed Parker was a game called YZQX.

The way Parker thought of it was in the same way she thought of the levels of Sweeper training, where L1 was the lowest training level and L5 the highest, and the only way a Sweeper could be more highly trained was as a Tower operative, distinct from a basic Tower Sweeper, Tower operatives able to attain L7.

Parker stood up from her desk and took the elevator down to the SLs to the Archives. The Chairman had given her permission to look into what the Archives had in the way of documentation relating to Center Empaths after she had mentioned it.

She had been down to the Archives before, and she had always found them disorderly and frustratingly large and the lighting inadequate. After an hour of walking through aisle after aisle, she took what she had gathered and turned back the way she had come, and stared at the sign announcing STUDY ROOM.

The door she walked through did not lead into a room at all, but a corridor with many doors which Parker discovered were the study rooms. Unlike the lighting in the Archives, the lights in the study room Parker chose were so bright they made her eyes want to water, and the temperature did not seem to be as tightly regulated because Parker felt suddenly too hot and promptly removed her jacket and hung it over the back of her chair.

What was interesting, Parker thought, was that a branch Empath could be of a higher class than a Tower Empath, and wondered if Reagan would be taken away soon to be trained as a Tower Empath or to work as one, and what she would do then. A possibility was that the Tower just didn't think Blue Cove mattered enough to be assigned a decent Tower Empath.

Resisting the urge to go back up to her office and spend an hour searching for her sunglasses, Parker shuffled through several folders until she came to one marked: ANGELO, ALSO RAINES, A. A., REDIRECTED FROM TIDAL, T. V..

It was a Tower file, Parker noted, frowning at the Center insignia stamped on the front of the folder and signed, Certified: Dr. A. Brown III. Dr. Brown was either Brown himself or his father, Parker thought with a frown, which meant that Brown's family and the Center went a long way back together.

She opened the folder and thumbed through several pages and picked out an insert that seemed to be a separate but related file – marked ADDENDUM – which when she opened it was credited, Compiled: 57983FSDND, this time without a signature. Parker made a face.

She had no way of knowing whether the code referred to a person, place or time. She read through the file, frowning the whole time, and when she had finished, she just sat there for a while, thinking over what she had read. After a while, she made a mental note of the DSA reference number and shut the file. She hadn't been allowed any sort of electronic device such as a cell phone, digital camera or PDA, and she'd forgotten to bring along a pen and paper.

Timmy had been a Class Two Empath, and Angelo was also a Class Two Empath, a fact which had been highlighted by the words NO CHANGE. Which was why the Center had had to create another Empath like Angelo, Parker supposed, to see what would happen if they did it again, though in neither case had the experiment gone the way they had wanted. Angelo had not been a better Empath than Timmy, and Davy had been rescued and taken out of the Center's clutches.

A. A. Raines, Parker learned, referred to Angelo Arthur Raines, Angelo's alias in the event he was deployed to Field.

Parker thumbed through several more pages, but nothing she read so far had given any indication of who Angelo's father might be, neither the addendum file nor the main file. There was no proof that Raines was Angelo's father, but there was no proof that he wasn't either.

Parker skimmed through several Sim reports before flipping to the back of the file and perusing the medical files. Just as he had said, there was no mention of any attempts to rehabilitate Angelo to a state much like his former when he had been Timmy or even to re-establish Timmy, though there was a report advising against such action, signed, not as Parker had expected, by Raines, but by Lyle under the name Lyle Sanford, 57983FSDND.

Parker stared at the sequence of numbers and letters for a long moment, then turned over the page. She didn't want to have to look at the name any longer than she had to, she was starting to feel nauseous.

She skimmed several more Sim reports before closing the file and setting it aside.

She read through Davy's file which was signed by Raines and was not, obviously, a Tower file, which, Parker supposed, meant that Davy had not worked with, for, or under the Tower, and no mention of such was listed in the file. Davy, like Angelo, had been a Class Two.

Reagan's file, understandably, was not in the Archives because it was in her filing cabinet in her office.

She picked up the file PARKER, T. E. (DISCONTINUED). A Tower stamp and signature sat neatly in place. Inside, a single sheet of paper read, Discontinued. Parker frowned. Was T. E. Parker Theodore Parker? And what did 'discontinued' mean? She turned the page over, but there was nothing written on the back. No birth date, no mention of what either T or E stood for, no signature. She closed the file and stared at the Center insignia on the Tower stamp.

Sarah had thought that Lyle was her twin, Parker remembered, and she'd said his name was Theodore? She frowned. No, she had been the one who had mentioned Lyle. Sarah had said Theodore, and then she'd said that Polly was her twin, but Sarah had told her that she didn't have a twin sister.

_She'd_ gotten upset and said that Lyle was not her brother, to which Sarah had less than enthusiastically agreed, then Sydney had interrupted and asked that if Lyle was not her twin, then what was he, but he'd only got a smile before Sarah walked out. Parker frowned harder. The question Sydney should have asked, she thought, should have been "If not Lyle, then who?", but instead he had asked "If not twin, then what?" _Then what?_

Maybe she and Lyle had been related after all? Through Raines, who might have been her father, or even if Mr. Parker had been her real father, her uncle, or through Jarod's family, whom she was connected by her half brother Ethan, or Dorothy, she remembered, her mother's sister, or Ben Miller, if Ben Miller was her real father. She rubbed her head.

Or Sarah. After all, Sarah's assistant looked a lot like Lyle. Maybe they were related, maybe that was why Aster was Sarah's assistant, because he was her grandson.

Parker looked at her watch and looked at the remaining files she had to read. She really wanted to confront Sarah now, but she hadn't finished reading through all of the files, and she didn't have much time before she had to be with Reagan for one of his sessions.

She quickly looked at the names on the files she hadn't yet read, none of them instantly familiar, and none of them Tower files. She was never going to be able to think or work with all of these questions whirring around in her head when all she had to do was go up to Sarah and ask.

She gathered all of the files together and walked out of the room and dropped the files off at the desk with the man who had been called down especially so that she could come down and have a look around, then she walked to the elevator. Back in her office, she dialled the front desk and asked Midori if she could put her through to Sarah Parker, which Midori did, and Sarah told her she was just going to the dining hall so Parker said she would meet her there if that was okay, which Sarah said it was.

Parker ran to the elevator and had to catch her breath on the short trip down to SL-1. Sarah was sitting at a table with Aster, who looked even more depressed than usual and was playing with a set playing cards, which Parker noticed as she drew nearer, featured V.V., a popular porn star, all shots of V.V. in tiny lingerie.

"Hello, Mel," Sarah greeted.

"M-m-mel." Aster glanced at Parker. "Hello, Mel."

"Sarah. Aster," Parker said, taking a seat.

"How are you?" Sarah asked.

"F-f-fine," Aster interrupted.

Sarah shot him an annoyed glance.

"I'm fine," Parker replied.

Sarah smiled briefly.

"I was wondering if I could ask-" Parker began, but was cut off by Aster laughing hysterically.

"Aster, please! I'm trying to carry out a conversation here, if you hadn't noticed."

Aster looked at her. "S-s-scary!" He smiled. "Noticed. Don't care." He laughed again.

"What's so funny?" Sarah asked.

Aster leant across and whispered something in her ear.

Sarah frowned, glancing at Parker.

"Ha! Ha! A tin Ood!" Aster half shouted.

"Do you have children?" Parker asked loudly over the sound of Aster's laughter.

"No," Sarah replied, then shook her head. Aster was being too loud.

Parker glanced at Aster.

"H-h-help."

Parker looked at Sarah, frowning in exasperation, whilst Aster wouldn't stop laughing.

And then he did, and he fell out of his chair, and he was on the floor.

"You've had your fun. The amusement is gone," Sarah told him.

Parker stared at him.

Then he started to convulse.

* * *

"No, he hasn't. This is the first time," Sarah answered the attending doctor.

The doctor nodded. "I see. Thank you. And you are?"

"Sarah Parker."

The doctor laughed, then continued in a calm and confident voice. "Are you any relation to the patient, Ms. Parker?"

Sarah frowned. "Yes. I'm his carer."

The doctor nodded once more. "All right." He sighed. "Ms. Parker, if you will just step this way-"

"What's your name?" Parker cut him off.

The doctor frowned, annoyed. "Who are you?"

Parker glared.

The sound of something in pain reached their ears, an animal or a small child.

"What are you doing to him?" Sarah cried, stepping toward the doctor, who stepped sharply backward, quickly joined by several large male nurses.

"No!" Sarah shouted. "You can't do this!"

"If you will just calm down, Ms. Parker," the doctor chirped coolly.

"I asked you what your name was!" Parker interrupted loudly.

The doctor glanced at her, then away again.

Sarah gaped at him. "You can't do this!" she repeated, lunging at the doctor. Two nurses took hold of her.

"I think you'll find we can, Ms. Parker," the doctor told her brazenly.

"What's going on here?" Parker shouted.

The doctor glanced at her, pained.

"Help me, Mel!" Sarah pleaded.

Parker stared at her.

A team of Tower Sweepers had arrived. Sarah fell limp in the nurses' hold, sedated. Denis emerged from behind the Tower Sweepers. "Melanie, Melanie, Melanie."

"What are you doing? What's going on?" Parker demanded.

"Everything's fine, Melanie," Denis assured her, and then Parker fell asleep, she didn't even feel the needle.

* * *

"I apologise that this had to happen," a muffled voice was saying. "It was for your own safety."

Parker opened her eyes. She was lying in a bed. White room, green linen. She was in Med Space. She blinked.

"The man was a Reaper," Denis explained. "Do you understand?"

"Where have you taken Sarah?" Parker demanded. Her voice grated in her throat when she spoke. She remembered the study room, how hot it had been. _A tin Ood._

"The effects of the sedative are not lasting. You're going to be fine in no time, Melanie," Denis soothed. She paused thoughtfully. "We couldn't control it anymore."

"_He_," Parker corrected.

Denis smiled what she clearly thought was a comforting smile, but it just looked demeaning. _Tin Ood._

"He was getting too dangerous," Denis continued. "We've contained him so that he can't hurt anyone else, or himself, and we're going to help him get better again."

"What do you mean 'anyone else'?" Parker said. "Where is Sarah?"

Denis frowned. "I'm sorry," she began. "The Reaper broke free before we were able to sedate it. Sarah's gone. I'm so sorry."

Parker laughed. "That's bullshit!" she screamed, shooting up in bed. _Tin Ood._

"I'm sorry, Miss Parker," another voice said from across the room, a familiar voice. "She's telling the truth. Sarah's gone."

"Sydney?" Parker stared at him, couldn't take her eyes off him.

Sydney smiled sadly. "She's dead," he said softly. "I'm sorry. She was your family."

"No!" Parker cried, determined to keep her voice firm. Her throat hurt so much. "They did something to her! They gave her something! She was sleeping!"

"I know," Sydney whispered.

"She knew too much about him," Denis said. "He couldn't let her live. He couldn't risk her passing that on to us. I should have seen it coming. I'm sorry."

Parker shook her head, which hurt now too, as well as her throat. She shook her head again. "I want... I want Sydney."

"I'm right here," Sydney said quietly. He touched her hand.

_Tin Ood. Discontinued._ Parker closed her eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

Toto was sitting in class, listening to the teacher talking about Math, and thinking about all the dumb questions the school nurse had asked her in that patronising voice, and how she had tried her best to answer every question just the right way so the school nurse wouldn't make trouble for her mom who had taken to sitting and staring at the television for long periods of time.

The teacher rubbed something off the white board and wrote something else up in its place.

Toto frowned. Slowly, she turned her head and looked behind her.

Bobby smiled. "Run for your life!"

* * *

Toto's eyes snapped open and she nearly swore. She'd fallen asleep again! She really didn't want the teacher sending her to the principal's office again or to see the school nurse.

The teacher finished what he had been writing up on the whiteboard and turned around to collect everyone's homework sheets before the end of the class.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	70. Chapter 70

Parker pushed coat hangers around in her closet, this way, that way, and back this way again, trying to decide what she would wear for Sarah's funeral service, but she really didn't want to go at all.

* * *

At her office, the telephone rang. Parker picked it up. "Miss Parker. Who is this speaking?"

It was Robin. She was late for Reagan's session.

Parker put the phone down.

* * *

Robin was standing at the door when she arrived at the Sim lab, a deep scratch across his face, with eight Branch Sweepers from two Sweeper teams, two Tower doctors, Deputy Med Space Director, Dr. Reston, and Dr. Sims, who, according to Cherry, came as a cowboy every Halloween function.

Parker knew Dr. Brown, but she did not know the other Tower doctor, who, she noticed, had a blood nose. Brown was attending the other Tower doctor whilst Reston and Sims were attempting to sedate someone who was still struggling though he – Parker was fairly certain it was not a woman – was being held by eight Sweepers.

She had barely taken in the scene and started to turn toward Robin to ask him what was going on when a team of Tower Sweepers appeared at the end of the corridor, a third Tower doctor with them. The Tower Sweepers had no sooner made it around the corner than the person the eight Sweepers were attempting to contain broke out of their hold, throwing four Sweepers and Sims away from him and launching himself at the Tower doctor with Brown.

"This isn't over!" he growled in a deep unearthly voice.

The sound of it sent shivers down Parker's back, and she did not recognise the orange-eyed young man until much later. All she could think was that a Reaper was standing mere feet from her.

Behind her, the Tower Sweepers started shooting at the Reaper. Robin levelled his own gun on him.

"Stop, you halfwits!" Brown shouted, his voice deepening in anger. "Stop shooting!"

The Tower Sweepers did not stop shooting, and turning and taking off down the corridor, the Reaper ran into a further barrage of bullets from the two Sweeper teams he had been struggling with earlier, the team of Tower Sweepers advancing their line of attack further down the corridor.

"I SAID 'STOP'!" Brown roared.

Parker noticed that the Reaper had red hair.

He managed to break the line of branch Sweepers and disappear around the corner, before they went racing after him.

Brown was staring madly at the man standing with him. "What is wrong with you?" he growled, his Welsh accent stronger than usual.

Parker frowned inwardly and wondered why Brown had a Welsh accent when his family had been living in America for three or more generations.

"What is wrong with _me_, Dr. Brown?" the other Tower doctor shouted. "He tried to kill me, and very nearly succeeded at-"

"Alright!" Reston said, moving to separate the two Tower doctors.

Robin lowered his gun, eyes still glued to the spot where the Reaper had disappeared.

Sims rubbed his ankle which had been hurt when the Reaper had thrown him off him.

The third Tower doctor, Dr. P. C. Callicott according to his nametag, turned to Parker. She supposed he had just come from a meeting.

"What was that?" Callicott asked.

Parker stared at him.

"Get off me!" Brown yelled angrily, thrusting Reston away from him, his brown eyes almost too light.

Sims shot Reston a look from where he was sitting on the floor. Leave him be, his look said.

Parker was about to say something to Callicott when a low growl behind her, the opposite end of the corridor he had run to, announced that the Reaper had returned, having evaded his pursuers, back for the unknown Tower doctor. A second later, a loud shot sounded, and Parker jumped.

Reagan dropped to the floor and did not move.

Parker stood perfectly still, remembering that her mother had been shot.

Robin lowered his gun, his eyes never leaving Reagan.

"What did you do?" Sims asked almost too quietly.

Robin made no reply.

The unnamed Tower doctor stared at Reagan's body as though he could not decide whether he was pleased or furious.

* * *

River walked with Taylor, Abigail, Simone and Tara through Bay Mall, looking at shop windows and listening to Taylor telling them all about her latest fling.

Taylor paused to sip her caramel milkshake, stopping in front of Miss Jane's, a pricey fashion boutique with a penchant for pintucks, panelling and bodices.

River collapsed and fell to the floor, spilling her milkshake all over herself and the floor.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	71. Chapter 71

Both Sarah and Reagan had their funerals on the same day, at the same cemetery, Reagan's right after Sarah's. Paulie put her arm around Parker, but Parker didn't notice. She just kept picturing her mother on that DSA after Raines had shot her, or thinking how much Sarah had reminded her of her father, Mr. Parker.

Later, Paulie took Parker, Broots and Sydney to lunch at Whiskers Blake, but Parker wasn't hungry.

* * *

Paulie drove her home.

"Mom, why are you wearing those clothes?"

Parker didn't know how long it had been since Paulie had dropped her off. "There was a funeral," she said.

Indiana frowned. "Who died?" she asked.

Parker got to her feet. "Sarah and Jonathan."

Indiana shrugged. "Who were they?"

"I think I'll go up stairs," Parker said. "These clothes are so stuffy."

Indiana stared at her, waiting for an answer to her question.

"Sarah was my father's sister. An old woman. We weren't that close." She started toward the door.

"And Jonathan?" Indiana asked, smiling. "Who was Jonathan?"

"Jonathan was Valor's father," Parker replied, and walked out the door.

Indiana stopped smiling. She hadn't been smiling because she'd known that Jonathan was Reagan. She'd been smiling because she'd thought that Sarah and Jonathan had been married, and that they'd died together in their sleep.

She sat down on the sofa and wondered if she was happy, now that he was gone.

* * *

Mickey had always thought he'd end up with Dewy, Calum would end up with Maria and Adrian would end up with Calum's younger sister, Gwen, or someone else, it didn't really matter, but he'd always thought he'd end up with a friend, someone he'd known and trusted forever, or for as far back as he cared to remember, but he'd never thought he'd be 49, almost 50, and end up with a 19-year-old who he'd been convinced was a transvestite the first time he'd met her.

Scottie smiled, her dark grey eyes never quite melting, and Mickey pulled her into his arms and kissed the hair on the top of her head. She was too young, he told himself every night before he closed his eyes, but most of all, he was too old.

"I want a baby," Scottie said in that voice of hers, manly only because it was not womanly.

Mickey held her at arms length and examined her, the sharp angles of her bones, the cement colour of her skin, the dullness of her tar black hair, the laser intensity of her hard dull grey gaze. He let his hands slide from her arms. "Come into the other room," he said, and she followed him where he walked, unsmiling.

* * *

_The woman looked every bit of eighty years old, dressed in a smart maroon suit with skirt, dark pantyhose and beige high heels. Her face was a mask of cosmetics, a pair of exhausted blue eyes peering out through grey hair, her shoes complemented by a pair of knotted beige earrings like little buttons._

_Parker looked at the woman, as plain as she had ever been, and wondered if she was plain of mind as well, if that was why her husband had married her._

_The woman extended a hand, wedding ring on her left hand, her hand as steady, Parker imagined, as it had ever been. "Elsie Bowman."_

"_Melanie Parker," Parker reciprocated, taking the hand offered. She did not know how the woman had come to know of Project Guzman, and she prayed that the woman would not ask what she thought she had come to ask._

_Elsie produced a photograph. "This is Robert."_

_Parker glanced at the photograph, one of those school photographs. "Robert is..."_

_Elsie gave a short expected nod. "My son."_

_They sat down to work out the payment details at Parker's desk, and Parker rang Robin to tell him to get Reagan ready._

_Outside the meeting room she had instructed Robin they would be using for the session, she explained the procedure to Elsie, she would need something of Robert's, and most of all, time. Then they stepped into the meeting room and she introduced Elsie to Reagan, the 'medium'._

_Elsie retrieved a little tin from out of her designer handbag and passed it to Parker. The tin, which had initially contained some from of candies, was rusted in places and rattled when Parker took it from the older woman._

"_It's from France," Elsie explained. "I kept Robert's baby teeth in it."_

_Parker almost dropped the tin. "Thank you," she said, and placed the tin down on the table along with the photograph of Bobby._

_Parker took Elsie for a coffee at the cafeteria and wondered how she was going to explain that it had not worked._

_Half an hour later, the two women returned to the meeting room, and Reagan walked up to Parker and informed her that he was ready. Parker stared at him for a long moment, expression serious but nothing more, and nodded._

_Reagan held the table for support for a moment._

_Elsie glanced at Parker, her face carefully controlled, and directed her gaze to Reagan._

_Reagan stepped around the table and walked up to Elsie. "You got old."_

_Elsie laughed awfully._

_Reagan reached out a hand and touched her face._

_Elsie gripped his wrist harshly but did not move his hand away._

_Reagan smiled. "You were never plain," he told her._

_Elsie laughed manically. "You're dead!" she cried, her voice constricted. She collapsed to her knees, still laughing._

_Reagan knelt down in front of her and frowned._

_Elsie slapped him hard across the face._

_Parker stepped forward to intervene, but Reagan put his hand out to signal her not to come any closer._

_Elsie dissolved into tears._

_Reagan put his arms around her and hugged her, his head rested on her back. "Don't cry, mummy," he said in a younger voice._

* * *

Parker woke up, and in the morning she was called into the Chairman's office and assigned to Kenna, a young woman possessing the Inner Sense whom Sydney had been working with.

* * *

"I think something's happened," Harmony said quietly, reaching down and gripping Ethan's arm gently with both of her hands.

Ethan glared at her.

Harmony frowned. This wasn't about them, they could talk about their differences afterward.

Ethan shut the lid on his laptop and followed her out of the room.

Mo was sitting in a corner of his room, knees pulled tight to his chest.

Ethan marched across the room. He didn't really want to be in the room at all – he'd never been very good at calming or reassuring – but Harmony was still behind him and he couldn't turn around and go back. He wanted so much to find out what was wrong, and he wanted to say that everything would be alright, but he was afraid that he would say something or do something that would make everything worse. So he pretended he didn't care at all. "What happened?" he asked, annoyed.

"Sarah's dead," Mo said strangely.

Ethan frowned. "Who?"

After a moment, Mo sniffed loudly. "Sarah Parker." He stood up. "She was a carer," he said, "and she was my carer before I was assigned to the Pretender Project."

Ethan made a face. He'd never heard of any of these carers before and he didn't like the fact that her surname was Parker.

Harmony stared at the floor.

Mo sniffed again. "There is a man," he said blankly.

Ethan shrugged. "Clark Kent? No wait, I've got it this time – Harry Potter?"

Mo frowned, upset. "Miss Parker is his mother," he told Ethan.

* * *

Parker stared at him. "Ethan?"

Ethan made a face.

Parker frowned.

Ethan told her about the man.

Parker's eyes slowly filled with tears.

* * *

"What are you going to do with me?" Sarah asked.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	72. Chapter 72

"Bobby?" The room inside her head was dark, the large glass window and skylight the only source of light on an overcast night. Indiana peered into the darkness and tried to make out the shapes. "Are you there?" She stopped moving about and concentrated, but there was no movement. "Bobby?"

"You found me."

Indiana spun around, standing in the middle of a column of bright light, the space around her suddenly illuminated as through by a spotlight.

Bobby looked exactly the same as he had when she had last seen him, 15 years old. The bright light made his eyes impossibly blue.

Indiana stared at him, all of the things she had forgotten about him over the years.

He didn't smile, not exactly, but lifted his hands up to his face. "My turn."

Indiana reached out and took his hands. This wasn't a game. "No," she said. "Something happened. Something bad."

Bobby looked at her, as though he was looking right into her.

Indiana frowned, still holding Bobby's hands, and glanced down at Bobby's right hand and at the string of beads he wore on his wrist.

"Dr. Jones," Bobby said, and something about his voice made Indiana look up. She hadn't let go of his hands. He leant closer and kissed her.

* * *

_She was scared. She was so scared. She didn't know why Bobby was being so mean. She didn't know why he'd slapped her. But then she could feel her mom, and that was all she could feel._

_The rope made a funny sound, but the woman didn't make any sound at all. She was dead, suspended above the floor, swaying slightly in the still air. Indiana thought that she had seen the room before, maybe she'd even been inside it. It was her mother's office, she realised, and the woman who was dead was her mother._

_She was in a house – her house – and that song was playing, and all of a sudden she was fourteen again. She was in the lounge room, sitting in an armchair. She was frightened. If her mom found out she would be in so much trouble. She glanced across the room at Reagan. He would fix everything, she knew. Despite the differences they had had in the past, she knew he would help._

_Reagan had been so helpful, not like Reagan at all. He'd even made hot chocolate. She'd wanted to laugh. It was, of course, entirely non-humorous. There was nothing so funny about hot chocolate. But then again, there was!_

_She hadn't planned on it all coming together this early, but then it had all seemed so right. Her birthday, her mom leaving them alone, and then Scarlett's idea about the wine._

_Scarlett had been easy to manipulate, and even more so once the alcohol had loosened her up. Reagan, on the other hand, she knew, was going to pose a big problem. At least that's what she'd thought, until he'd let her spike his hot chocolate and then gone ahead and drunken it too._

_She'd always taken him to be better than that. That had been her silly mistake, she supposed._

_And then, when she'd manipulated him into taking her upstairs, and she'd seen that room, she'd known it was too good an opportunity to turn down. And she'd been so right._

_He hadn't even put up a fight. He'd been happy to comply. It had made her sick with delight._

_Oh, she was good!_

* * *

Indiana wanted to throw up. All of the memories had moved so quickly, all of the emotions and feelings. Her eyes stung against the bright light and she realised Bobby had stopped kissing her.

He dropped to the floor on his knees and bent over and screamed.

Indiana took careful breaths. She couldn't think. For a long moment, she didn't hear the screaming, nothing could matter less.

It had been her. All along, it had been her. It had never been Reagan. She'd made Reagan do those things to her.

She felt suddenly dizzy.

Bobby was screaming, hadn't stopped screaming since he had started.

She'd never felt calmer, Indiana remembered. Nothing at all had mattered. "BUT THAT'S MY MOM!" Indiana screamed at Bobby. Her mom who had made her make Reagan hurt her.

Bobby looked up at her and the screaming stopped.

Indiana glared at him, her eyes hard and hateful.

But Bobby couldn't speak, couldn't even scream.

Indiana didn't need him to. He looked into her, and she looked back into him. It'd never been her mother, Bobby's eyes said, and Indiana knew it was true. She felt it.

Indiana stretched out a shaking hand and the room plunged into darkness.

* * *

"It's alright. I'm not going to hurt anyone."

Belinda felt a shiver run through her that had nothing to do with the cold. She'd never met the man before in her life, but she knew she knew something that Maybelline didn't, and it scared her.

Much later, when she had stopped working at the hospital and gone to work for the Center, when she was known more by her nickname Cherry than her real name, she would know why, but right now, she was just a person trying to persuade another person not to jump off a roof, and she was so scared, scared that the man would jump, and scared that she would fall.

She wanted to yell at him not to lie, not to her, not to Maybelline, but she didn't, she had to be strong for the younger woman, for Maybelline, and she wanted to cry, because she understood, she didn't know why, but she understood. He wouldn't be able to hurt anyone anymore when he was gone, when he was dead. And somehow, she couldn't make herself look away, couldn't make herself not stare into his eyes staring back at her.

He smiled.

Just for a second, her heart stopped.

Then he jumped down from the ledge. "It's alright," he said cheerfully. "Nothing happened. I said I wasn't going to hurt anyone, didn't I?"

Belinda felt something pass over her, and she thought that she would pass out, but she didn't.

* * *

Looking back, Cherry thought she might cry sometimes. Looking back on that day on the roof, or the day she'd seen Lyle in Med Space and realised that he worked for the Center too. The last time she had seen him, he'd tried to kill himself. She'd been so angry, she remembered.

She stormed right over to him and growled, "You!" Then she'd started yelling at him, and all the while he'd just smiled. She'd almost slapped him. Until he'd proposed they settle their differences with a duel. "To the death!" he'd said.

Cherry had been ready to faint when she thought he was actually going to give her a real gun, but instead he'd given her a water pistol. Two different people had told her off, but she hadn't really cared. She hadn't had a water pistol fight since she'd been a very small child. She didn't even care the way Maybelline had been looking at her.

Looking back, Cherry honestly believed the reason he hadn't killed himself that day was that he'd seen in her eyes how frightened she'd really been, and maybe a part of him could remember being that frightened, maybe a part of him could remember being that frightened and caring.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	73. Chapter 73

Parker was more interested in the symbols than the drawings. In truth, the drawings gave her the creeps. Pages of black ink or pencil, whatever was on hand, gruesome and slick at the same time, fathomless black silhouettes and eyes like pits or dark mirrors, almost other-worldly, like old fairy tales. She didn't like the drawings. When she looked at them, they made her feel strange, as though the world wasn't quite right.

She handed the book to Sydney, explained that she'd found it among Lyle's things, wrapped up in layers of paper on layers of paper as though for a game of pass-the-parcel that was never played, explained about the feeling of menace but at the same time a strange pulling interest. Maybe he could tell her what the symbols meant, if they were some sort of language?

Sydney sighed and sat down behind his desk with the book, looking at several pages then staring at a drawing.

Parker reached across and turned the page for him. "I don't like the drawings," Parker told him.

Sydney frowned and glanced at her. "It cannot harm you," he explained.

Parker did not reply.

Sydney returned his attention to the symbols. "This was Lyle's?" he asked.

Parker frowned in irritation. "Yes," she replied.

Sydney considered the page for a moment. "Perhaps it was Bobby's too?" he said after a moment.

Parker tossed her head slightly. She didn't care either way. She just wanted to know what it said.

"What do you think it is?" Sydney asked.

Parker made a face at him. "A diary. About all of those girls he killed. How he did it. Why he chose them. What he did to them before. That he got away with it, every time."

"Perhaps you believe this is the source of the menacing feeling you say you feel from it?"

"Yes."

Sydney nodded.

Parker wondered if Emily was in there, from Canada, and then again when he'd thrown her out of that window. She hadn't told Sydney that Aster was her son, and she wondered if she would.

* * *

It was 1987. The cold water burnt on his hot face. His muscles, tight with anger he refused to release, ached horribly. He forced himself to stand under that water until it calmed him. All he could think was how much he wanted to hurt someone, anyone. He could hardly breathe for the pain in his chest that told him he must calm down.

He was numb from cold. His mind refused to register the arms that had come around his own, that someone was hugging him.

A hand moved across his chest, the gesture comforting through his sodden shirt stuck to his skin. Sam stood with his eyes closed and felt the water harsh on his face.

The hand slid down his chest, to the point on his shirt where the buttons ended, and came to rest on his bare abdomen. The touch sent a jolt to his stomach and he jumped away, backing up against the shower wall with a painful thud. His heart pounded madly against his chest. The look on his face was one of determination.

The young man seemed familiar somehow but Sam was having trouble placing him. It was only when he stepped closer that Sam recognised him as his new roommate.

He was so close to Sam now that he could see the shine in the tiny beads of water that clung to his eyelashes. Like diamonds, Sam thought, his heart in his throat. He wanted to hit him, staring at him like that.

The younger man blinked, eyelashes sticking to his cheeks for the slightest fraction of a second until he opened his eyes again.

Sam stared into his big blue eyes and couldn't move, not for the feeling of foreboding rising in his chest, not for anything.

There was a taste, spearmint and pineapple, and Sam smacked the back of his head hard on the wall.

The young man watched him carefully, uncertain. Sam thought for a moment that he might cry and felt suddenly awkward. The spearmint was probably from toothpaste Sam thought as the young man kissed him, and felt stupid for not hitting him, but it felt good so he did nothing, stood there and did nothing.

His thoughts were all over the place. Why was he allowing this? Why did it feel good? And what should he do? Somehow it didn't feel wrong as he imagined it would, and Sam couldn't fathom it.

Fingers fumbled on the buttons of Sam's shirt, badly. The cold made the younger man's hands shake and Sam smiled through the kiss.

His hands fell to Sam's jeans. He pulled back suddenly and Sam followed, confused and disappointed. He was waiting for Sam's approval.

Sam grinned, took his face in his hands, and kissed him. He thought he could taste raspberry.

The young man slipped his hands into Sam's jeans and Sam closed his eyes.

* * *

Sam stared at the darkened ceiling and listened to the soft sound of Midori's breathing. They were going to be married. Maybe even have some kids, Sam thought.

"_I've had enough."_

_Lyle frowned._

_Sam raised his voice. "I want out! I'm sick of this game!" He laughed, turned on the spot. "I won't let you fuck my life up too!" he shouted. "You think it's okay! Lyle fucked your life up, so why shouldn't you be allowed to fuck everybody else's lives up! Get a grip! You think it's Lyle's fault you're like this. It's nobody's fucking fault but your own!" He laughed again. "I cared about you! I really did! But it got old!" Sam shook his head, then he turned and walked away. He stopped at the door. "I hate the circus," he told Lyle coldly before walking out._

* * *

Parker frowned, explaining how Valor's session with the child behavioural specialist had gone. She wasn't pleased. All the specialist seemed to be able to tell her that Valor was a normal, healthy, happy child. He hadn't seen her when she'd gotten angry, and although that hadn't happened again since the last time at her school sleepover, Parker wasn't ready to believe that the underlying cause was gone for good.

Sydney listened and wondered if it was not her developing Inner Sense, causing her problems, the way it had been with Indiana for a while when she was younger. He had refrained from saying so to Parker because he hadn't wanted to alarm her, and he had spoken with Valor about when she'd gotten angry, but all she'd told him was that she didn't know why she'd gotten angry, she just had, which, whilst not encouraging, had not made him think that Voices were talking to her in her head.

She could do the same thing any time, Parker was saying, and she was thinking about taking Valor to another specialist, for a second opinion.

Sydney nodded. He agreed. A second opinion couldn't hurt.

Parker stopped, and stared at him.

Sydney sighed. A second opinion could not hurt, he repeated, as long as she was not signing up for Valor to be put on any medication.

Parker nodded to herself. She just hoped it wouldn't have to come to that.

Sydney frowned. "Miss Parker," he said suddenly, and paused, not sure if he should go on, but Parker was watching him, waiting for him to go on, "I wonder if you remember, but when you were younger, you, yourself, were put on medication."

Parker laughed. "What? What for?"

"An imaginary friend."

Parker stared at him blankly. "Imaginary friends aren't real, Syd," she told him, amused.

"I don't know," Sydney replied.

"No, I don't remember," Parker said. "How old was I?"

"Four."

Parker stared. "Medication?" she said blankly.

"For a fortnight," Sydney confirmed.

Parker blinked. "Why a fortnight?"

"A doctor was concerned that the medication was doing you harm, or would do so in the long run," Sydney explained.

Parker laughed shortly. "Brown?" she shot, incredulous. She had a hard time believing that.

"Another doctor," Sydney said.

Parker stared at him. "What doctor?"

Sydney shook his head.

"Tell me the name?" Parker told him seriously.

"Raines," Sydney divulged reluctantly.

Parker laughed. "You're kidding me!"

Sydney frowned. He wasn't kidding her. And why was it so unbelievable that Raines would think that the medication might have an undesirable effect over the long term? He had been a doctor. "You do not remember at all?" Sydney asked carefully.

Parker stared at him as though he was accusing her of being mad. "No! I don't remember!" she growled.

"Your mother heard you talking to him and she was concerned," Sydney explained.

Parker stared. "Him? My imaginary friend was a he?" she said. She couldn't understand why Sydney was telling her this now. Did he think that Valor had some sort of imaginary friend who was making her angry?

"Yes," Sydney replied.

Parker shook her head then glanced at Sydney. As hard as she tried, she could not remember ever having had an imaginary friend. "Did you believe that he was real?" she asked.

Sydney smiled. "No," he said honestly.

Parker nodded. "And did you agree with Raines about the medication?" she asked.

Sydney frowned. "No," he replied again.

Parker made a face. "Maybe…" She fell short.

"Yes, Miss Parker."

"So he just told my parents that he didn't think the medication was good for me, and they, what, took me off it?"

"No," Sydney replied. "He resigned."

Parker stared at him. "He what?"

"He resigned," Sydney repeated, starting to become uncomfortable.

Parker laughed. Whatever else she thought about it – that it was completely, irrationally stupid – it was invested, and it reminded her of her mother, determined to save the children. "So what happened?"

"You stopped taking the pills. He returned to work."

Parker stared. "Come on!"

"He was an asset. The Chairman knew that, and Jacob agreed."

Parker shook her head.

Sydney crossed his arms. They were not going into a discussion about Jacob and how Jacob hadn't liked Raines, so why would he suddenly endorse him? Back then, Jacob had believed in the company, or at least he had wanted it to seem, to all appearances, that he did.

"Sydney, what if he wasn't real?" Parker said. "I mean, really real. What if he was just a beginning."

"A beginning for what?" Sydney asked.

"Lyle."

Sydney frowned.

Parker frowned too. She wondered about all the effort Raines must have put in, and for what? What had he really been trying to do?

Sydney shook his head. "Raines and Lyle are gone," he said. "Valor is still here."

Parker glanced at him. He was right, of course.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	74. Chapter 74

"Bobby?" Indiana frowned, stepped further into the room. "I'm sorry, okay."

"Who are you talking to?"

Indiana spun about.

Scarlett looked around the room. There was no one else in the room apart from the two of them.

"No one," Indiana told her.

Scarlett shrugged. She had been helping Indiana pack for her vacation, but now she was all packed. She turned and walked out.

Indiana walked to the bed and sat down. She picked up the stuffed tractor.

* * *

Indiana glanced at the lake and large white house, the sign reading 'deep waters bed 'n' breakfast' in plain black font.

Parker parked the SUV in front of the house. Indiana climbed out of the car, still listening to her MP3 player. Valor pushed open the back door and climbed out after Indiana.

Parker walked to the white front door and rung the electronic bell.

The door was answered by a young woman, her blonde hair done in plaits. She smiled when she saw Parker, then turned and walked back into the house, returning a short while later with a teenage boy.

The colour drained from Parker's face. The boy looked exactly like Bobby.

The young woman stared at her, concerned, and glanced at the boy.

"Come inside," the boy said in an accent that was not Bobby's.

Parker stepped into the house, Indiana and Valor following her inside. They were directed into a small parlour and Valor sat down on the sofa.

"Where is Ben?" Parker asked, straight to the point.

The boy frowned, glanced at the young woman who walked across the room and asked Indiana and Valor in a bright voice if they would like something to drink or eat.

The boy walked out of the room.

Parker followed him.

Stepping into the kitchen, the boy turned back to Parker. "I am Ben," he told her.

Parker wanted to laugh in his face. Instead, she stared at him. His eyes weren't the same as Bobby's, she realised. They were the same colour, they just weren't the same. Bobby's eyes had looked bigger, Parker supposed, and his eyelashes had looked different. His hair was different to Bobby's somehow too.

Ben frowned at her.

She had not told Ben about Lyle, though she had told him about Paulie. "What happened?" Parker heard herself ask.

Ben shrugged.

"Do we have menthol Coke, Ben?" the young woman asked from behind Parker.

"No," Ben replied.

* * *

Parker, Indiana, Valor, Ben, and the young woman – whose name was Camilla – went out for dinner at a hotel called The Maine Hotel.

Valor happily sipped her menthol Coke.

Indiana stared into her raspberry soda for a while. The hotel did not have Jen & Berry's soda, in either strawberry or cranberry. All she could think was how Ben looked just like Bobby, except he didn't.

After dinner, they drove back to the Bed & Breakfast and Indiana called Scarlett and Avalon on her cell phone to say she had arrived safely and to wish them goodnight. Then she rung Kirk and wished him goodnight and told him she wished he was with her. She really did. For a long moment she thought about ringing Eastwood, but in the end she didn't.

Indiana stared into the blackness and wondered where old Ben was and who young Ben was, wondered if he was Ben's grandson, and if that meant they were related, if that meant Bobby and she were related, wondered if Bobby was still alive. Somehow, strangely, she hoped he was.

She woke in the middle of the night. At first she thought it was the television that had woken her, that someone had switched the television on, unable to sleep, and that was what had woken her. But then she saw Bobby. He was singing Alma Cogan's _Dreamboat_ blankly.

She climbed out of bed and walked across the room quietly. "Bobby?" she whispered.

Bobby laughed suddenly and looked at her and the colour ran out of his eyes and down his face except for the two black spots in the middle that were his pupils.

Indiana's heart stopped dead. She wanted to shout at him, shout at him that he was frightening her and to stop it, but she just stared at him, still singing in that dead voice.

Bobby shifted and fell into dust that faded away into nothing as it fell to the floor.

"BOBBY!"

* * *

Indiana told her mom about Bobby, lied and said she'd seen him in a dream, said she'd thought he was Ben's younger brother, or that maybe they were twins, or maybe it was just a dream, lied and said she'd never dreamed about him before, this was the first time, said, on second thought, she must just have been dreaming about Ben, and she had no idea why she'd called him Bobby, and asked what Ben's middle name was.

Parker said: "Thomas."

Ben said: "Theodore."

Indiana frowned.

"It is Thomas," Ben said after a moment. "You're right." Ben looked at her, asked: "Will you be okay?"

Indiana nodded.

Ben didn't smile, but turned and walked out.

Parker looked at her too.

"I'm okay," Indiana told her.

* * *

Indiana sat at a wooden table, paper plate on the table in front of her. She didn't want to eat her sausage and coleslaw. She didn't want to be at this stupid Show anymore.

Someone sat down across the table from her.

She looked up. But it wasn't Parker. It was Ben. She didn't say anything.

"Talk to me, Indiana. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Indiana replied.

"Why don't you tell me?" Ben asked. "What's really wrong?"

Indiana looked away from him, went back to staring at her uneaten food.

"Indiana?"

Indiana glared at him.

"What's wrong? Really?"

"It's all stupid!" she shouted.

"What's stupid, Indiana?" Ben asked. "What's making you angry?"

Indiana laughed.

Ben sighed and stood up. "Alright," he said calmly. "I tried."

Indiana scrunched up her face.

Ben frowned but didn't walk away. After a while, he sighed again. "Everything I do…"

Indiana wished he would just go away.

Ben sighed. "What's the use in being angry?" he asked, looking at her again. "Who are you hurting the most? Me? Or yourself? You don't have to be angry at me, Indiana. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want you to hurt yourself. We can talk about this. At least try to talk about it. If it doesn't work out, maybe some other time when we're both feeling not as bad? But don't just… Please just talk, Indiana. You have to talk. Yell at me if you like. But talk."

Indiana stood up, arms crossed, not looking at him. She turned to walk away.

Ben grabbed her arm, so that she spun back around and tried to pull her arm free. "I can't!" he shouted, holding fast to her arm. "I just can't!"

Indiana stared at him, frightened. She thought about screaming. She really wanted to scream, but then Parker appeared.

Ben dropped her arm and was gone.

* * *

Indiana sat in her room, legs crossed, on the bed, all of the things she had gotten at the Show emptied out on the bed in front of her. She chewed on the edge of her already half-eaten large colourful lollipop and sorted through the items she had emptied out of the show bag Parker had gotten her as though she were Valor's age.

She felt angry and upset and scared and stupid and childish and she hated Ben and she wanted to cry. She picked up the cheap mood ring and slipped it on her finger.

* * *

The 18-year-old watched the girl behind the roadhouse counter watching a game on television.

"_I thought you were my friend, Bobby."_

"So what's your name?"

The 18-year-old looked at the teenager who had taken a seat across the table, who, he guessed, was the same age as both the girl – whose name was Tait – and he. The teenager had said his name was Owen. "Jimmy," he replied.

* * *

Indiana woke to the sound of raised voices, yelling. Outside the window, it was late afternoon. She had fallen asleep. She sat up and climbed off the bed. The voices sounded angry now.

"Get out!" Ben shouted.

Parker said something that was too quiet for Indiana to make out.

"Did you hear me?" Ben shouted again.

Parker laughed.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Ben hollered.

Indiana jumped. She knew this was her fault.

* * *

Indiana sat on the back seat beside the window and Valor sat next to her, a car seat in between them, beside the other window. Nobody spoke.

_As she watched, shafts of dust danced in the beams of light coming through the window. The glass had been painted over with white paint but some of the paint had been scratched away to form backwards words. She traced the words in the air with a finger: The Trees. In this room, it was quiet and warm. In this room, she felt safe. She turned, smiling, to the man who she knew had fallen asleep beside her._

"_Stay," he said softly. "Stay with me."_

_She had been so happy before. She stopped smiling._

Indiana's eyes snapped open. For a moment, she was terrified she had screamed. Her heart was thudding in her chest. It was dark outside the window now. She watched the blackness and waited for her heart to stop racing. She could hear the sound of her heart beating loudly.

Parker sat up front, behind the steering wheel, driving. Valor had fallen asleep.

Indiana shivered, remembering how Lyle had been gazing at her, had been gazing at the woman.

* * *

_He made her so angry! Why he would just not leave! She had told him already – it was not safe for him to stay. She told him again: He had to leave, move away, be safe. She would worry – always – but he would be safe, safer than if he stayed here. And she needed him safe. Forget the house, forget the workshop. Leave._

_He refused to listen, said he would only leave if she came with him, if they both came with him. Leave her husband and come with him._

_She loved her husband, she told him._

_And he loved her, he told her._

_She shouted at him and hit his arms with her fists. If he loved her, truly loved her, then he would leave. She loved him, so much, and she was asking him to leave. Yelling at him. God, he made her so mad!_

_He held out his arms and she stepped into them and let herself be held. She might say she loved him now, he said, but he'd loved her all his life. She laughed, teary-eyed, but he continued: Sometimes, he even thought she'd been born just so he would have someone to love._

_She laughed so much then, she thought she would cry._

_And then he said: If you die, that's the end of my life._

_She stood outside, ready to climb in the car, ready to go back to where she called home._

"_Oh, and darling."_

"_Yes, darling?"_

"_In the next life – hubby gets it!"_

* * *

Parker sat down on Indiana's bed and told her about Bobby. She told her that she had been dreaming about someone named Bobby and not young Ben, but how they looked the same even though they were different people, the way she and Catherine looked the same.

Indiana watched her mom without speaking. She had a bad feeling.

"Bobby can't hurt you, baby," Parker reassured her.

"It was just a dream," Indiana told her, sitting up. She needed to sit up because she felt sick lying down.

"It's going to be fine," Parker told her. "He's dead."

It seemed like she was going to say more, but Indiana shook her head. "I didn't hear him talking to me in my head or anything," she said in annoyance. "It was just a dream. It wasn't like the other time."

Parker reached out and touched her hair. "Bobby changed his name when he got older," she explained softly. "Bobby and Lyle were the same person, baby."

Indiana pulled away from her. "What? No!" she shouted. "You're lying!" She shot out of bed, tears in her eyes. "You're lying!" she shouted again. "Why are you lying?"

Parker frowned. "I'm not lying," she said calmly. She stared at Indiana strangely.

Indiana shook her head. "No!" she whined. Her mom was wrong. Bobby and Lyle weren't the same person – they couldn't be! She would have known if they had been. She would have felt it, or seen it, or something. She backed into the wall and slid down it. Her mom stared at her as though she was mad, and she was right, Indiana thought. She was a mad girl! She didn't want to cry, but she did anyway.

Parker sat staring at her.

So Indiana told her how it had never been Lyle talking to her in her head. She told her that it had been Bobby all along, though she'd never heard him talking to her in her head the way she said she'd heard Catherine. Bobby had said she was an Empath. She wasn't like her at all. She was different. "You don't understand," she sobbed, and started to cry again.

Distantly, she thought that the man in her dream, the man who had looked like Lyle, had been Ben, and young Ben was really old Ben. And the woman, the woman had been Catherine.

* * *

"How old were you when you first came to the Center, Collier?"

Collier made a face at Sydney. "12."

Sydney frowned. Twelve seemed old. All of the subjects he had worked with in the past, to the best of his knowledge, and who were essentially company-owned had been acquired at much younger ages.

"My GCs had no idea that the Center even existed until I was 12," Collier explained.

"GCs?"

"Genetic contributors. Parents. Whatever."

Sydney frowned a bit more.

"I guess they hated me," Collier admitted. "I know I hated them. I think I scared them. They thought they were the normal ones, but to me _they_ were the freaks. The 'normals' were the freaks. They took me to the Center to make me better – to cure me! But I'm not sick. They're the ones who are sick. After that, I couldn't stay with them any longer. I couldn't stand them. Everything about them, everything they did: when they spoke, or looked at me, anything. It made me sick. So I ran away. I came to the Center and asked them to help me – and they did. I'm not a freak here! Here, I am what I am. I wouldn't go back if you paid me."

* * *

Indiana danced with Kirk at Sam's wedding, and when Kirk asked her to marry him, she said 'yes'.

* * *

**Once more, for science** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


	75. Chapter 75

**Character List**

**Abigail** – Taylor's friend.

**Abigail** – Valor's classmate.

**Adrian** – an L5 Sweeper for Blue Cove, trained by Lyle and Sam. Trained as a psychiatrist, a fan of Sydney's work and life accomplishments.

**Alana** – Valor's classmate.

**Aletta** – a Pretender on loan from New Mexico to work with Collier; mother of Mario. Mentored by Martha.

**Alex** – a Tower Pretender, codenamed **the Chameleon**. Lili's father; he rescues Thora; not knowing her name, he calls her Laura. Worked with Kyle, Alicia and Angelo.

**Alicia** – a Pretender formerly of the Center's Blue Cove branch.

**Allie** – Debbie's mother; Broots's ex-wife. Former drug addict and gambler.

**Amanda** – Chelsea's daughter and Callie's best friend. Nicknamed **Strawberry** by Toto's father.

**Andrew** – Valor's classmate.

**Andy** – Valor's classmate.

**Angelo** – was once known as **Timothy Valentine 'Timmy' Tidal**. William's son with another woman. An Empath and Reaper, and Indiana's father. After attacking Miss Parker, he escapes from the Center. Lyle's friend. Persephone was his handler after Raines. Also known as **Angelo Arthur Raines**. Annie, Eg and Sam's half brother. Worked with Jarod, Kyle, Alicia and Alex.

**Anna** – River's co-worker at the aquatics centre.

**Annie Raines** – daughter of William and Edna, sister of Sam. Once a nurse, before she was kidnapped. Believed, by Jarod, to have been killed by a man named Douglas Willard, and by Angelo to still be alive. Possibly a Healer.

**Anton Broots** – Broots and Paulie's son. Debbie's half brother. Possibly possesses the Inner Sense.

**Ariel** – Shalla's clone, the younger of two. A member of the Healer Triumvirate named First. Obviously, a Healer. Indiana's great aunt; half sister to William's children with Edie and Marquise. William and Ocee's daughter.

**Arthur** – Valor's classmate.

**Ashley** – a T-Corp Empath, Rodnee's classmate.

**Aster** – Miss Parker's son. Sarah's assistant for a while. Sarah was his carer. Shows Reaper abilities.

**Astrid** – a Tower nurse. Usually employed in the Nursery, she works with Robin to snatch Mungo from his mother, Thora.

**Avalon** – one of Scarlett's best friends, the same age as she and Indiana, her friend, and younger sister to River. Nicknamed Av.

**Baby** – a lab tech who ends up dying after exposure to a serum deadly to Reapers, T-Corp's equivalent of Sweepers, but possessors of the anomaly.

**Ben Miller** – Catherine's 'lover' from Maine. He owns a Bed & Breakfast. Miss Parker suspects he is her real father. He 'regenerates' around the same time that Harmony does. His middle name could be Thomas or Theodore. In a dream, Indiana first thinks he is Lyle, before realising that he is, in fact, Ben.

**Beverly** – in charge of the Burns Group.

**Billy** – Valor's classmate.

**Blake** – missing T-Corp Healer, believed to have been kidnapped by the Center. Mother of 31 children and Convergence partner to Rooney, the children's father, despite T-Corp's breeding program which theoretically should have prevented their bonding occurring a second time.

**Bobbi** – Lucy's daughter. An illustrator of children's picture books.

**Boxer** – Valor's classmate. Dances with Valor on the school sleepover.

**Brigitte** – James's second wife – Mrs. Brigitte Parker – following Catherine. Formerly a Cleaner. Thomas Gates's murderer, and Reagan's mother. Deceased.

**Brown** – a Tower doctor; the Parker family doctor. Also Dr. Brown.

**Buzz** – River's third official boyfriend.

**Cadman Peel** – Thora and Peel's son, and Lili's half brother. His name – originally **Mungo Connor** – was changed by his father when he had him snatched from his mother and framed her for his murder, then accelerated his growth by three years. He is bright but bruises easily.

**Callie Howl** – Ivy and Coby's daughter, and Toto and Crais's mother. Nicknamed **Mint** by Toto's father.

**Calum** – an L5 Sweeper for Blue Cove, trained by Lyle and Sam. Was once a nurse. Interested in Maria.

**Camilla** – Ben's friend. Not known whether she is a housekeeper, or his girlfriend, or whether she helps out with the Bed & Breakfast he runs.

**Carter Reston** – Deputy Director of Med Space. Also Dr. Reston.

**Catherine Parker** – Miss Parker, Paulie and Ethan's mother, James's wife and Ben's 'lover.' Also **Catherine Elaine Jamison**. Sometimes called Cathy. An Inner Sense Possessor, she mounts a rescue of the children the Center had taken, only to be shot dead by Raines, who she had trusted. Bobby tells Indiana that she is not dead. Her newborn son is then 'stolen' by Raines.

**Charity** – Plum's daughter, Ignacia's granddaughter; younger sister to Savannah and older sister to a younger brother. In school, she was in Indiana's grade.

**Charles Russell** – married to Margaret; the father of Jarod, Kyle and Emily. Also Mo's father. He attended instruction in the Air Force with William Raines. Brother of Edie. Also **Major Charles**.

**Chelsea** – Amanda's mother and Ivy's best friend. Jimmy's ex-girlfriend. Sometimes nicknamed **Chel**.

**Cherry** – Plum's best friend; a nurse assigned to Cox. Her real name is **Belinda**.

**Chloe** – Denis's secretary; takes a dislike to Midori.

**Cindy** – Miss Parker's clone, and Sanford's 'twin.' Communicates using her Inner Sense and his Empathy, which is strongest when in contact with the other's skin, which is one reason they are frequently seen touching, and sometimes thought to be a couple. (She believed Mr. Parker to be her father before she met Sanford and he helped her to understand who she was and the pair ran away together.) A creation of the Center's Project Gemini. Very protective and possessive of her brother, San, and will lie if need be. (Imagined as actress Ashley Peldon.)

**Clement** – Valor's classmate.

**Clint** – Valor's classmate.

**Coby Howl** – a sheriff with the police. Ivy's husband and Callie's father; Toto and Crais's grandfather.

**Collier** – a Pretender of whom Sydney is mentor. Father to Mario with Aletta. He 'likes' the Center.

**Comfort** – a Pretender; Sanford's new partner with the Burns Group.

**Commandant** – a Reaper working for T-Corp as part of Penny's personal security detail, assigned the ident-string **ORG-210**. Also called **Hungry** by Penny. Partner to Penny on the breeding program.

**Coraline** – a prostitute who takes over from Thora as Peel's favourite.

**Cox** – Director of Med Space and Debbie's boyfriend. Nicknamed **Frankie**.

**Crais Howl** – Callie's son; Toto's younger brother.

**Daniel** – Valor's classmate.

**Davy** – a Class Two Empath who was stolen by the Center and part to an attempt to create a second Angelo.

**Deana** – a T-Corp Empath, Rodnee's classmate.

**Deborah 'Debbie' Broots** – Broots's daughter with his ex-wife, Allie. Also **Johnny**. Once **Debbie Johnson**. Cox's girlfriend, and Thora's best friend and next of kin. Lyle was once her social worker. A doctor at the same hospital Edna Raines worked at.

**Dee Dee** – a T-Corp Healer, daughter of Rooney and Blake.

**Denise Tidal** – Marquise's younger sister, Penelope's daughter, and Angelo's aunt.

**Dewy** – an L5 Sweeper for Blue Cove, trained by Lyle and Sam. Maria's best friend.

**Diamond** – light brown-haired Tower Healer, classified as Gen 2.

**Donna** – Valor's classmate.

**Dorothy** – Catherine's sister; Miss Parker and Paulie's aunt. (Imagined as actress Andrea Parker.)

**Dr. Hooper** – Jimmy's father; formerly the town's only doctor.

**Dr. P. C. Callicott** – a Tower doctor.

**Eastwood** – Indiana's former boyfriend and Chemistry class lab partner.

**Edna 'Edie' Raines** – William's wife; Annie, Sam and Eg's mother. Deceased, believed to have been murder by her husband, though there was insufficient evidence for a conviction. Annie's mother; a paediatric doctor. Believed by Angelo to still be alive.

**Eg** – William and Edna's son, and Annie and Sam's younger brother. Thought to be deceased. Jarod once found a photograph showing he, Annie and 'Edie.'

**Elsie Bowman** – Lyle Bowman's wife and Bobby's adoptive mother. (Imagined as actress Heather Donahue.)

**Emily Russell** – daughter of Margaret and Charles Russell, sister of Jarod, Kyle and Geronimo 'Mo' Russell. Also known as **Madeline McKay** when working for the Center undercover as a researcher. Lyle's former 'girlfriend.' They have a daughter together. Nicknamed **Jack** by Bobby.

**Endora** – a T-Corp Empath, Rodnee's classmate. Wants to change her name to Sabrina or Samantha.

**Enya** – a 15-year-old girl that Reagan grabbed in Bay Mall.

**Enzi** – River's fourth official boyfriend. They are no longer together, he has another girlfriend, but is willing to help her with her problems.

**Ethan Clausen** – Miss Parker and Paulie's half brother; he still likes to think of Lyle as his half brother. Half brother to Jarod, Kyle, Emily and Mo. Son of Catherine and Charles. Codenamed **Mirage**. An Inner Sense Possessor.

**Ezra Broots** – Miss Parker's tech, assigned to the Retrieval Team following Jarod's 'clues.' Debbie's father and Allie's ex-husband. He remarried Paulie and they have a son, Anton.

**Fulton** – Blue Cove's medical examiner, she has William's dog tags from the Air Force. Abe's lover.

**Geronimo 'Mo' Russell** – Jarod's clone, created under Project Gemini, for which he was named. Jarod, Kyle and Emily's biological brother, and Charles and Margaret's son. He was cared for by Sarah before being assigned to Raines. Codenamed **Gemini**. He chose the name Mo for himself.

**Gwen** – Calum's younger sister.

**Harmony** – Margaret's friend, amnesia sufferer. She regenerates.

**Hathora 'Thora'** **Connor** – Debbie's best friend; a cleaner and a prostitute. Also known as **Sasha** or **Glinda** to her clients. Mother to Mungo Connor, later named Cadman Peel. Believed to have murdered her son and admitted to a mental facility. Canadian citizen, once known as **Marlena** in an out-of-state mental facility. Once a nurse at the hospital where Debbie works. Alex calls her **Laura**; they have a daughter, Lili, together.

**Ignacia** – Bobby's best friend and girlfriend in high school; Jimmy's friend and lover. Mother of Plum, and grandmother of Savannah, Charity and a boy. Nicknamed Chez by Chelsea.

**Imo** – Shalla's clone, the older of two. A member of the Healer Triumvirate named First. Obviously, a Healer. Indiana's great aunt; half sister to William's children with Edie and Marquise. William and Ocee's daughter.

**Indiana**** Alexis Parker** – Miss Parker's daughter with Angelo. Friend of Scarlett and Avalon. Nicknamed **Dr. Jones** by Bobby. Girlfriend and fiancé of Kirk; ex-girlfriend of Eastwood. An Empath. If Lyle were Miss Parker's brother, she would be Reagan's cousin; officially his niece. They have a daughter, Valor, together. Told by Bobby, who she believes to be her Spirit Guide, that Catherine, her grandmother, is alive. Nicknamed Indie by Reagan.

**Ivy Howl** – an officer of the law. Coby's wife and Callie's mother. Grandmother of Toto and Crais. Chelsea's best friend since primary school. Called V by Chelsea.

**Jacob Green** – Sydney's twin brother; the elder of the pair. Once Director of Med Space before William, he was made comatose in a motor vehicle 'accident' set up by the Center as it was discovered he was assisting Catherine's rescue plans. He later died.

**James Parker** – former Chairman of the Center in Blue Cove, husband of Catherine, father of Miss Parker and Paulie, officially Reagan Parker's father. Known most often as **Mr. Parker**, and as Daddy by Miss Parker. Believed deceased after exiting a jet mid-flight with 'the Scrolls.' Distant relation of the Island of Carthis' Parker, in Scotland, and his daughter, Angel. He calls Miss Parker Angel.

**Jamie** – Valor's classmate.

**Jarod Russell** – Margaret and Charles's son, and Kyle, Emily and Mo's brother. Ethan's half brother. A Pretender who escaped the Center. Nia's boyfriend and father to Jay. He runs an anti-Center group.

**Jay** – Jarod and Nia's daughter. Emily was her surrogate mother as Nia could not give birth to a child.

**Jeanne** – young, deep-voiced Tower Healer, classified as Gen 3.

**Jerry** – older Tower Healer, classified as Gen 2.

**Jimmy Hooper** – Bobby's best friend, and Ignacia's friend in high school. Chelsea's boyfriend. Killed by Bobby, who then blames the murder on his father and makes it look as though Jimmy were still alive and he were dead, then assumes his identity at university.

**Jodie** – a Pretender and tech support for the Burns Group. Assists in Sanford's kidnapping. Nicknames Sanford 'Robbie.' (Imagined as actress Kristen Bell.)

**Karl** – Margaret's love interest.

**Kawalski** – the traitor who informed to the Center's Alabama branch the whereabouts of Jarod and Ethan when Miss Parker 'visited' them.

**Kenna** – an Inner Sense possessor with whom Sydney works.

**Kirk** – Indiana's fiancé.

**Krissy** – a spirit Reagan is assigned to locate.

**Kyle Harper** – a detective; Lolly's partner. He shares a likeness to Kyle Russell.

**Kyle Russell** – Jarod, Emily and Mo's brother. Ethan's half brother. A Pretender taken by the Center. Charles and Margaret's second son. Shot by Lyle, his heart was donated by a sick boy by his brother, Jarod.

**Lili** – Alex and Thora's daughter, Cadman's half sister.

**Lin** – Lyle's girlfriend.

**Lolly Corelli** – Kyle Harper's partner. A detective. (Imagined as actress Sarah Shahi.)

**Lucy** – Lyle's former secretary; Bobbi's mother and Midori's cousin. She meets a Sweeper named Robenson who she likes and asks Midori to look up his phone number on the system.

**Lucy** – Valor's classmate.

**Lyle** – Toto's father. A nurse.

**Lyle Bowman** – husband of Elsie, and Bobby's adoptive father. Also known as **Dr. Lyle Bartholomew**.

**Lyle Parker** – at one point, Miss Parker's twin and Ethan's half brother; also assigned to the Retrieval Team tracking Jarod. Also known as **Blue** – when working for the Tower – and **Xaris** – for T-Corp. Known as **Bobby Bowman** when younger. Translator, tech and Empath. Has a daughter with Emily, and a son named Reagan with Brigitte. He shot Kyle. He looks like Ben. Known as **Lyle Sanford** in Canada, when he worked for the Center's eugenics facility making EPs. He once stole his best friend's identity after murdering him and pretended to be **Jimmy Hooper**. He framed his father for the murder.

**Madison** – Valor's classmate and Donna's friend. Valor is jealous of her 'common' name.

**Margaret Russell** – Charles's wife; Jarod, Kyle and Emily's mother. Also Mo's mother, though not the woman who birthed him. Catherine's friend. Formerly a geneticist for the Center's Blue Cove branch, and team leader of the research team which isolated the gene anomaly which might be expressed in humans in a way such that makes them Pretenders. Discovered the anomaly.

**Maria** – Ollie's mother. An L5 Sweeper for Blue Cove, trained by Lyle and Sam. Calum's love interest. Dewy's best friend.

**Mario** – son of Collier and Aletta. A Pretender manufactured by the Center's machinations.

**Mark** – a Tower official.

**Marquise Tidal** – Angelo's mother; Indiana's grandmother, and Valor's great grandmother. Nicknamed Manda by her older sister, Denise. Penelope's daughter.

**Marshall** – younger Healer, classified as Gen 3.

**Martha** – Aletta's mentor.

**Marvin** – a high school math teacher; Bobby's old teacher. He liked Elsie, but because she married Lyle and they 'had' Bobby together, he hated Bobby. He worked with Sunny. Regenerates.

**Mia** – Valor's classmate.

**Michael** – a Tower Sweeper who Miss Parker briefly joins up with to fight alongside when Blue Cove is attacked by their rival, T-Corp. Shalla's favourite Sweeper. He keeps Indiana's secret when she Heals Paulie.

**Michelle** – Nicholas's mother; Reaper. Sydney's ex-fiancé.

**Mickey** – an L5 Sweeper for Blue Cove, trained by Lyle and Sam.

**Midori** – Blue Cove's desk girl. Sam's wife; a Healer. Lucy's cousin; Bobbi's 'aunt.'

**Miss Parker** – the head of the Retrieval Team tracking Jarod, Blue Cove's escaped Pretender. At one time, thought to be the elder sister and twin of Lyle Parker; later Paulie's twin. Ethan's half sister, they share the same mother. Mother of Indiana and grandmother of Valor; 'sister' to Reagan Parker. Her first name has been **Melody** and **Melanie**. Known also as Mel by Sam, and **Angel** by Mr. Parker, as well as it being the name she chose when she took work experience at a seafood restaurant. She has the Inner Sense. Bobby believed that she was his imaginary friend; she also had her own imaginary friend which Sydney and she think may have been Bobby. She looks like Catherine.

**Ms. Denis** – Chairwoman of the Center Corporation's Blue Cove branch. Known mostly as Denis, or Chairman; will not tolerate being called Chairwoman or Madam Chairman.

**Nia** – Jarod's girlfriend whom he first met Pretending to be a park ranger. Jay's mother.

**Nicholas** – Sydney and Michelle's son. Sometimes known as Nick. A Reaper and Inner Sense Possessor. A teacher.

**Ocee** – an Empath from a Scottish Island. Shalla, Imo and Ariel's biological mother. She was Healed by William.

**Olivia** – Maria's daughter.

**Owen** – a boy who gives Jimmy a lift when he sees him on the side of the road.

**OXR-938** – a T-Corp Empath.

**Pacino** – Valor's classmate.

**Pam** – Jodie's superior on Recruitment. Assists in Sanford's kidnapping – the one with the gun.

**Patrick** – Valor's classmate.

**Paulie Broots** – former Federal Agent with the FBI. Broot's wife, Debbie's stepmother, Anton's mother. Worked on Bobby Bowman's case with Jarod Cross. Once bitten by a Reaper injected with a deadly serum and taken gravely ill, thought to be beyond help until she is Healed by Indiana. Daughter of Catherine, twin sister of Miss Parker; Indiana and Valor's aunt. Also **Polly**. She has the Inner Sense. (Imagined as actress Sasha Alexander.)

**Peel** – a Tower doctor for Blue Cove. Also known by the alias, **Jonah**. Father of Cadman Peel. Also Dr. Peel.

**Penelope Tidal** – Angelo's grandmother on his mother's side. Deceased.

**Penny** – T-Corp's 'princess.' Nicknamed **Princess** by a Reaper she nicknamed Hungry, also Penny's first partner on the breeding program. A Healer.

**Persephone** – a psychiatrist and specialist in Empathy; Angelo's mentor; Reagan's former mentor. Believed by Angelo to be **Faith**, Miss Parker's adopted younger sister who died of cancer.

**Phil** – Valor's classmate.

**Plum** – real name **Maybelline**. Ignacia and Jimmy's daughter, though she'd thought Bobby was her father. Cherry's best friend; mother to Savannah, Charity and a younger boy. Lyle is thought to be her children's father but she reveals to Miss Parker that this was a lie started by him. One of Cox's nurses.

**Presley** – Valor's classmate and best friend.

**Randolph** – Bartholomew's co-worker, a psychiatrist. Also Dr. Randolph. (Imagined as actor Liev Schreiber.)

**'Rambo'** – the gruff Reaper, employee of T-Corp.

**Reagan Parker** – son of Lyle and Brigitte, though officially Mr. Parker and Brigitte's son. Also known as **Jonathan** by Miss Parker. Father of Valor Parker. Class Five Empath, specialist in psychometry. Assigned to Field to discover the reason for T-Corp's attack on Blue Cove. Mentored by Persephone, then by Miss Parker. A part of Project Guzman. 'Controlled' by a 'possessed' Indiana. He shows Reaper abilities, but is later shot for attacking Peel.

**Rick** – Scarlett's boyfriend.

**River** – Avalon's older sister; a year older. Fancies Rick, though he's Scarlett's boyfriend. Reagan's girlfriend for a time. After dumping Reagan, she strikes him from the list of her 'official' boyfriends. Van is her first official boyfriend, followed by Troy, Buzz and Enzi.

**Robenson** – an L4 Sweeper for Blue Cove, and Lucy's love interest.

**Robin** – a Tower Sweeper who is later assigned to Miss Parker. Snatches Mungo Connor from Thora, and shoots Reagan.

**Rodnee** – a T-Corp Empath who stays with Xaris when he is unwell. Classmate of Ashley, Deana, Endora and Tal.

**Rooney** – T-Corp's 'crown prince.' Penny's older brother; Blake's Chosen or Convergence partner. Father of 31 children. A Healer.

**Saffi Mallard** – former Tower employee and a spirit assigned to 'body share' with Reagan on Project Guzman.

**Sam Raines** – William and Edna's son, Miss Parker's Sweeper, assigned, for a time, to the Retrieval Team tracking Jarod. Annie's younger brother by two years. Miss Parker's Convergence partner. Miss Parker's love interest who eventually declines her, though they had been in a relationship previously in their younger years – Miss Parker had even conceived his baby, but it had died. Married to Midori. Formerly Lyle's boyfriend. Trained as a lawyer in the Air Force, where he met Lyle.

**Sanford** – Lyle's clone, and two years younger than Cindy. Nicknamed San by sister, Cindy. An Empath. Wears glasses sometimes, especially when reading, as suffers eyesight difficulties. A creation of the Center's Project Gemini from a branch in the Philippines. Rarely speaks. When he is taken by the Burns Group, he claims his name is **Robert**. Nicknamed Robbie by Jodie.

**Sarah M. Parker** – James and Abel Parker's older sister, and Jonathan Parker's daughter. Aster and Mo's carer, before he was assigned to Raines. Miss Parker is told she was killed by Aster. (Imagined as choreographer, ballroom dance champion and judge on the American series of _So You Think You Can Dance_, Mary Murphy.)

**Savannah** – Plum's daughter, Ignacia's granddaughter; older sister to Charity and a younger brother.

**Scarlett** – Indiana's best friend, and the same age. Nicknamed Scar.

**Scottie** – Mickey's young girlfriend.

**Serena** – Valor's classmate.

**Shalla** – Ocee and William's daughter. A Healer. A part of the Healer Triumvirate First with her two clones, Imo and Ariel. Indiana's great aunt; half sister to William's children with Edie and Marquise.

**Sheena** – an Empath with whom Sydney works.

**Simone** – Taylor's friend, part of her group.

**Sims** – a doctor for Med Space. Also Dr. Sims.

**Sunny** – Bobby, Jimmy and Ignacia's Music and Drama teacher; Marvin's co-worker. Regenerates.

**Sydney Green** – Jacob's identical twin, though the younger of the pair. An Inner Sense Possessor, psychiatrist, mentor and Jarod's former mentor. Also assigned to the Retrieval Team tracking Jarod. Nicholas's father, he was going to marry Michelle before she 'fled.'

**Tait** – a roadhouse cashier.

**Tal** – a T-Corp Empath, Rodnee's best friend.

**Tara** – Taylor's friend, part of her group.

**Taylor** – a young woman who befriends River in university. Friends with Abigail and others in her group.

**Thomas Gates** – Miss Parker's former fiancé. Shot by Brigitte. Deceased.

**Tia** – a spirit assigned to body share with Reagan.

**Tiffany** – Valor's classmate.

**Tom Rayburn** – a Special Agent with the Navy; NCIS. He works with Justin and Xaris.

**Toto Lee Howl** – Callie's daughter, Ivy and Coby's granddaughter, and Crais's older sister. Shows Empathic abilities.

**Troy** – River's second official boyfriend.

**V.V.** – a popular porn star.

**Valor Parker** – the daughter of Indiana and Reagan; officially Miss Parker's daughter and Indiana's younger sister.

**Van** – River's first official boyfriend. When they meet, he works at Wendy's.

**William Robert Raines** – former Chairman of the Center Corporation's Blue Cove branch in Delaware, USA. Formerly Director of Med Space. Husband of Edna Raines, father of Annie, Eg and Sam Raines; Angelo; Shalla, Imo and Ariel. Also known as Billy. Was once **Abel Parker**, now known as **Abe**. Brother to James and Sarah Parker, son of Jonathan Parker. Believed to be a Gen 1 Healer. Was once in the Air Force with Charles. He regenerates, and forgets most of his past. Grandfather of Indiana, great grandfather of Valor.

**Yumiko** – a Japanese girl whom meets Bobby. Empath.

**Yuriko** – Yumiko's identical twin; Bartholomew's favourite until Bobby is 'brought in.' Empath.

**Zoe** – Jarod's ex-girlfriend and Ethan's girlfriend. She has cancer.

* * *

Can you help me find a first name for these characters?

**-Fulton**

**-Savannah and Charity's younger brother**


End file.
